Stan Lynn: A Boy's Adventures in China

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

  "FIERY MISSILES."

  The desperate fight had been going on for quite an hour from the time ofthe landing of the attacking party, and the men who had gained anentrance into the first defence had grown exhausted by the vain effortsthey had made to break a way through, and contented themselves, such ascould, with getting back outside to the shelter of the walls and,crouched there, watching their companions' fire, while turning a deafear, and then sullen looks, towards their leaders on the junks, who kepton furiously yelling to them to go on.

  They did not seem inclined to risk it, but scowled at those who orderedthe attack, and waited. After a short consultation among the junkcaptains--a consultation carried on by shouts and yells from vessel tovessel, delivered through hands held trumpet fashion to the lips--itbecame evident to Stan and his little garrison that an attack was to bemade upon a larger scale. For the crews of the junks manned the sweeps,and while those close in strove to lay their craft alongside the wharfabove and below the spot where their three junks were grappled together,the other two began to creep up inshore as if to land their men wherethey could get right round to the back of the great _hong_ and theoutbuildings; while, to add to the peril, one of the men on the far sideof the roof-ridge--a point of vantage from which several successfulshots had been sent into the vessels--shouted the bad news that thefirst junk, which had been carried down the river till she haddisappeared round a bend, was coming up again full sail, evidently torejoin the others.

  "It looks very bad now, Mr Lynn," said Lawrence, the foreman, who haddistinguished himself by the way in which he had maintained hiscoolness. "They're going to make a grand attack now in force."

  "Yes," replied Stan quietly, "it does look very bad. They're too manyfor us."

  "But you won't give in?" cried another anxiously. Before Stan couldreply another broke out with: "They don't want to kill us; only toplunder the hong. Why not take advantage of this lull and quietly getout on the other side, so as to get right away from the river? I don'tbelieve that they would pursue us."

  "Then you have a great deal more faith in the Chinese character than Ihave," said the first speaker, "I believe that as soon as they saw ourconfession of weakness--"

  "We should make no confession of weakness," retorted another. "Weshould only retire."

  "They would think we were beaten, and come after us for certain," saidanother bitterly.

  "Yes," said the first speaker sharply, "and follow us till we weresurrounded and overwhelmed out yonder in the marsh, or paddy-fields."

  "But why should they take all that trouble for nothing?"

  "For nothing? They wouldn't call it for nothing when they would get allour rifles and ammunition, in addition to having the profoundsatisfaction of spearing and hacking to pieces a party, of what theycall foreign devils. What do you say, Mr Lynn?"

  "Only this," said Stan quietly, "that if we are to be killed it would bebetter to fall fighting to the last in our own defence."

  "Then you will fight?" cried Lawrence eagerly.

  "Of course," was the reply. "I am obeying Mr Blunt's instructions todefend the place to the last."

  "But isn't this the last, sir?" said the clerk who had proposed theretreat.

  "Oh no. We are as safe or safer than ever, and though there are goingto be a great many more to make the attack, it does not follow that anyof them will get in."

  "Hear, hear!" shouted Lawrence.

  "And besides," continued Stan, "when it does come to their beginning tobreak in, we have all our big, strong coolies to join us and help withtheir knives and bars. I feel sure that they will fight bravely."

  "So do I, Mr Lynn," said Lawrence warmly.

  "But they are brother natives," said the objector.

  "That's the very reason why they will fight all the fiercer for us.They hate pirates like poison, and will enjoy sending them out of theworld far more than we shall. It is only fair, though, Mr Lynn, thatyou should give any one who likes to make the attempt to escape freeleave to go."

  "Yes," said Stan; "it is not fair to force any one to fight who wishesto escape."

  To Stan's surprise, there was a dead silence; and after waiting a fewmoments listening to the storm of voices without, Stan continued:

  "Then we're all going to stand by one another?"

  "Yes, to a man, sir," said the objector. "I dare say I'm wrong in myideas, and I give way."

  There was a cheer at this. Every man went back to his shelter andexamined his rifle, afterwards taking out and examining his revolverbefore thrusting it back in its holster, while Stan went from man to manto inspect his supply of cartridges, and ended by having a fresh box upand himself seeing to the refilling of every bandolier.

  While this was in progress those who kept a strict watch found that nofurther attack was being made. The matchlock firing had ceased, and themen beneath the outer defence lay crouched close as if waiting forfurther orders.

  But the preparations on board the junks were being made with adetermination that augured a serious encounter at the next attack. Menwere collecting, armed with spears and the great heavy curved Chineseswords which widened out in the blade from about an inch and a half atthe handle to more than double that width near the point; whilesomething fresh suddenly took Stan's attention, and he pointed it out tothose with him in the great store.

  "Yes, sir," said his chief backer in the late debate; "that's theugliest thing we've seen yet."

  "Why, it looks like the preparation for a procession. Every hatch onthe different junks has seven or eight great Chinese lanterns; butthey're not yet lit, so far as I can tell in this bright sunshine."

  "They mean it for a procession," said Lawrence, "and they think it isfor our funeral."

  "What!" cried Stan. "But look; what's that smoke?"

  "They're lighting stink-pots to throw, sir. Those and the lanterns areto burn us out."

  "Think so?"

  "I feel sure," was the reply.

  "But why didn't they use the stink-pots before?"

  "Because they thought they could drive us out without. They didn't wantto set fire to the place for fear of damaging the loot they mean totake. They can find a market fast enough for tea and silk; but they'regetting savage now, and mean to make an end of us, even if they have toburn the place down."

  "Well," said Stan coolly, "we must not let them. I'll go down now andfetch up the warehousemen and coolies to do nothing else but pick up andhurl back the fire-pots, for of course they will try and fling them inat these open windows."

  "You couldn't do a better thing, sir."

  "No," said Stan thoughtfully. Then raising his voice, he cried: "If anyone here can suggest anything more to be done, pray speak out."

  "Nothing more could be done, sir," said a clerk. "Your arrangements areexcellent."

  "Mr Blunt's are, you mean," said Stan, smiling. "Very well, then; Iwant to stay up here and watch. You, Mr Lawrence, go down and bring upthe coolies, and tell them what they are wanted to do; but you hadbetter leave half below to be ready to help with the water-buckets."

  The messenger went down, and returned with the sturdy body of Chineselabourers, who were placed at intervals from end to end of the greatopen space, well back in shelter; and as soon as this disposition of thedefensive force had been carried out, and the young chief had satisfiedhimself that the men thoroughly grasped the duties they had to perform,Stan gave orders for all who handled rifles to be in readiness to takegood aim and mark out for punishment every prominent leader amongst theenemy, so as to try and bring him down, and thus throw confusion amongstthe men who were being led to the next attack.

  Then began a weary wait, evidently caused by the leaders of theexpedition holding their men in hand until the first junk had beaten upagainst the wind till she was some distance beyond the _hong_, when thewatchers saw the sails suddenly begin to glide down and the great junkslacken and stop in its upward course; while directly after, with theswee
ps on either side thrust out, she began, after hanging upon thecurrent for a few moments, to drop down again, the huge oars being pliedvigorously, so as to run her ashore just below the edge of the wharf.

  "Now," cried Stan suddenly, "four of you, fire at the steersmen."

  Three shots rang out simultaneously, with the result that the twosteersmen went down. But two more sprang to their places, seized thegreat rudder oar, and the rowers toiling hard, the progress of the junkwas apparently not checked, and she came steadily on.

  Two more shots rang out, mere cracks in the vast space, but the junkstill kept on, till her bows touched the ground and her stern swunground parallel with the wharf, while her crew uttered a fierce yell andcrowded to the side; but they were some fifteen feet away from thewharf-edge.

  "Hah!" said Stan to himself. "They mean business now;" for once morethere was silence for a few moments before the old tactics were carriedout, a signal was given, and full warning afforded to the defenders thatthe enemy was coming on. For on each junk men rushed forward and aft tobegin belabouring the great hanging gongs with all their might, and thisformed the accompaniment to a terrific chorus of yells.

  "I should have liked to go down and see poor Mr Blunt once more," saidStan to himself; "but I dare not go now."

  Then he started, for his words suddenly assumed a strange significance.It seemed to him as if his seeing Blunt once more meant that it would befor the last time, and something like a shudder ran through him.

  He made an effort, however, and it was gone, leaving him firm and readyto an extent that startled him, for he could not believe that in theface of such terrible danger it would last.

  There was no more thinking then. The enemy, keeping up the horrible dinwhich was evidently intended to terrify the defenders of the _hong_ intosubmission, came pouring now from the various junks, some over the sidesto leap down from bulwark to wharf, some through the regular gangway,and those from the freshly returned junk making no scruple aboutdropping from the rail at the nearest point down into the river, to wadeor swim ashore. The manoeuvre resulted in several unfortunates beingcrowded down, to rise after an interval, and in several instances to beswept away by the sharp current now running between the side of the junkand the wharf, where, as fast as the assailants gathered, they rushedyelling to the tea-chest barrier and began to climb.

  All was wild excitement on the part of the assailants, who, as theypushed one another up, to be pulled up in turn by those at the top, keptup a continuous chorus of savage abuse and threats of the way that theywould treat their victims as soon as they got them down; but the furiousoutburst seemed to have not the slightest effect upon the defenders,who, crouching well below their barricades, remained perfectly calm andfirm. They knew their cut-out task, and contented themselves with thedelivery of a well-directed shot now and again. There would be awell-concealed loophole, with nothing visible to the attacking pirates,giving them perfect confidence that the defenders were hiding away fromthem, and then all at once there followed a sharp, pale spurt of flame,a little puff of smoke, and some leading man of the attacking partywould go down from the top of the wall, where he had been urging hisfollowers on, while as he fell it was as often as not to lie perfectlymotionless, unnoticed by his people; though upon some occasions, afterstaggering and falling, he would struggle to his hands and knees andcrawl out of the hurrying crowd, to try and creep back to one or otherof the junks.

  But as fast as one man went down several came on in his place, and in avery short space of time the whole of the narrow alley between wall andstore was full of hurrying fighting-men, carrying on the former tacticsof battering with their weapons at door and window, some of the stormingparty holding their ground and keeping on thrusting their spears insavagely wherever there was a loophole to which they could gain access.

  "Keep cool," shouted Stan, though for his own part he seemed on fire."They'll get tired of hammering at the place in time."

  "Hadn't we better try and shoot more of them, sir?" said one of theclerks.

  "No; you must only shoot their leaders. If we went on firing at thecrowd we should soon have no cartridges left.--What does that shoutingmean?"

  He raised himself a little to try and see the reason for a fresh burstof shouting below the window where he was watching.

  The answer came at once, after a peculiar odour, and in the shape of ablazing earthenware pot of inflammable material which was thrown fromthe top of the tea-chest wall with such accuracy that it came flaringand fuming right in through the narrow opening, to fall heavily beyondStan.

  One such blazing missile, it was plain to all, would be sufficient tocommence the destruction of the place, and in his excitement the youngleader forgot his status of chief and director, for he made a dashtowards the blazing pot, to stoop, seize it, and hurl it out. But justas he was holding his breath to avoid the smoke and flame, he was sentbackward by a sharp concussion, sitting down involuntarily, and thentrying to recover himself; but before he could get upon his knees he sawthe burning pot travelling back through the window-opening with so goodan aim that it fell on the far side of the wall, just where the enemywere thickest.

  The man who had thrown it back after upsetting his leader turned uponStan with hands blackened with the horrible resinous compound, and adeprecating look on his countenance as he murmured something in hisnative language, before ending up with his version of the English word"sorry."

  "All right," shouted Stan, smiling, as he clapped the coolie on theshoulder. "Bravo! Capital! Go on."

  The coolie's face lit up with satisfaction, and he turned sharply tofield another blazing pot and return it as sharply as a cleverwicket-keeper would a ball to the stumps which it had passed, and withsuch splendid effect that it struck and broke on one of the enemy, whowas standing on the wall in the act of hurling another of the hideousmissiles.

  The effect was startling. In an instant the pirate's blue cotton frockwas covered with the blazing resin, and uttering frightful yells, heleapt down into the crowd of his comrades in the shelter of the wallbeneath, forcing several to share in his misfortune as they werelighting up more of the horrible missiles to hand up to him forthrowing.

  There was a burst of flame through a cloud of smoke, out of which Stan--fascinated into looking out--saw something alive flaring as it rushedhere and there, making for a party of its fellows dashing up with moreof the pots.

  It was all done in a few seconds, and had any of the assailants beenready and noticed the lad watching, he would have been shot down. Butevery eye was directed at the blazing figure, and, to his horror, Stansaw the end of the tragedy. For the instinct of self-preservation hadmade them doubly callous to their comrade's sufferings. The man rushedon as if seeking help or in a blind effort to reach the river and plungein; but he did not reach it of his own volition, being received upon thelowered spears of three or four of his comrades, and then he was thrust,shrieking horribly, over the edge of the wharf, a sullen puff of smokefrom the surface of the water telling that the tragedy was at an end.

  A frightful sensation of sickness made Stan's head swim as he droppedback to the floor just in time to escape being struck by another of thefiery missiles; but the faintness was driven off by excitement, and itwas with perfectly clear brain that the lad saw the burning Asiaticgrenade hurled back amongst the yelling assailants. This proved to bewith an effect that checked further effort for the moment and sent twoof the pirates running to the edge of the wharf, to plunge in and climbout again dripping, but with no worse injury than a few smarting burns.

  Stan was awake to the danger that was rapidly increasing, for afterseeing that the smoking patches of pitchy resin on the floor wereinnocuous, he ran on towards where the far end of the great room wasfull of smoke, dreading greater mischief there; but, to his greatrelief, he found that, though quite half-a-dozen stink-pots had beenhurled in through the windows, the coolies there had dashed them back atonce. And here, too, he found that the enemy had suffered so painfullyfro
m their own weapons that the throwing had ceased.

  Any doubt that might have lingered in the brains of the Britishdefenders respecting the amount of confidence that might be placed inthe Chinese labourers was now completely driven away; for though the menhad been burned about the hands by the missiles they had returned, theymade very light of the pain, laughing and congratulating one anotherupon the retaliation they had been able to inflict, for Stan soongathered that here no less than three of the enemy had been seen to rushshrieking to the edge of the wharf and plunge in.

  There was a brief cessation now from the attack, and the defenders,whose vision was a good deal obscured by the smoke that hung in theplace, made out that the throwers were hanging back from where severalstink-pots were burning away in the shelter of the wall, some of the menprotesting loudly as one of their leaders furiously urged them on, andended by trying to set his followers an example by stepping forward,seizing one of the vessels, coming back into sight again with the potflaming as he held it by its loose handle, and then making a rush to abreach where a portion of the tea-chest wall had been torn down.

  The act was one of barbaric bravery, and Stan saw him reach the top,swinging the pot to and fro and making the flames roar as they rushedaway from his hands. Then as his arm was reached out backwards to itsfullest extent, and he was about to launch the horrible missile at theopening in front, there was the sharp crack of a rifle, and he fellforward, pitching headlong to the ground beneath the window, while theblazing pot struck the stonework close to the foundation of thebuilding, broke up, and went on blazing and sending up a dense cloud ofpitchy smoke.

  "Dead?" said the man who had fired, for Stan had reached forward to lookout, but drew back again coughing.

  "It's impossible to see," he cried. "The smoke is blinding."

  "And it will be setting something on fire," said another voice out ofthe smoke.

  "Ah! that's right," cried Stan, for the big coolie who had taken hisplace near them pressed forward with a bucket of water, which he setdown while he thrust out his head to see exactly where the danger lay,before picking up the bucket again, reaching out, and dribbling thewater down a little at a time, producing a cloud of steam to mingle withthe black smoke, and putting an end to all danger of a fire starting atthe lower barricaded windows.

  As the cloud of steam and smoke passed off, one of the clerks riskedthrusting out his head from the next window, but withdrew it sharply,for it resulted in a hasty discharge of _jingals_ from the deck of thenearest junk.

  "Hurt?" cried Stan, rushing to where the clerk had staggered back.

  "Yes, sir, horribly," was the reply. "Something--a piece of iron--or--a--a bullet--caught me--here--and--"

  The words came at short intervals, and sounded confused. For thespeaker was feeling about his head and neck, and drawing in his breathwith pain.

  "One moment," cried Stan, reaching out a hand to take something fromwhere it had lodged just within the poor fellow's collar.

  "Yes, that must have been it," he said wonderingly. "Bit of stone. Hitme on the side of the head. But that couldn't have come out of one oftheir matchlocks."

  "No," said Stan; "it must have been chipped off the side of the window."

  "And there's only a lump coming here. Doesn't bleed, does it, sir?"

  "No," replied Stan. "You had a lucky escape."

  "What a close shave! Never mind; a miss is as good as a mile," addedthe young fellow cheerily. "I saw the captain, though, or whatever heis, lying down at the foot of the warehouse quite dead."

  "Are you sure?" asked Stan, with his face contracted.

  "Oh yes--quite. He wouldn't be lying doubled up as he is if he wereonly wounded. I say, Mr Lynn, that wasn't a bad shot."

  "No; excellent, and just in the nick of time. Who fired it?"

  "Well," said the young man, hesitating and speaking as if he were not soproud of the effort after further consideration, "I fired straight athim, as I thought, just as he was in the act of flinging that blazingpot; but I can't say I am sure that I hit him."

  "But you are sure that he is dead?" replied Stan quietly. "Pray becautious, though. Don't run such a risk by looking out again."

  "You may take my word for it I won't, sir," said the young clerk,patting the side of his head softly as he spoke. "One taste like thiswill act as a reminder for some time.--Hullo! Look out. They've begunagain."

  There was proof of a renewal of the attempt to destroy the place by firein the presence of another of the pirates' hand-shells, for one camesailing in through the farthest window, to break up with a crash aboutthe middle of the flooring; and the defenders had a fine exemplificationof the dangers to which they were exposed in seeing the half-liquidcontents of the pot begin to flow, blazing steadily, in all directions.

  One of the coolies rushed up at once to spread the contents of a bucketof water all over the burning patch, while another, regardless of thepain, ran here and there catching up the flame-licked fragments of thepot from where they had fallen, and kept on hurling them like littlesmoke-tailed comets back through the window-opening.

  "More water," shouted Stan, as the burning patch began to add anotherodour to its own, a fine, pungent smoke beginning to mingle with thedense black fume, indicating that the floor boards were beginning tocatch.

  "No, no, sir; this will be best," said one of the warehousemen, and hedragged one of the silk-bales away from the nearest window.

  "But that will catch fire," said Stan.

  "Too closely pressed together, sir," was the reply.--"Here, you two,draw that backwards and forwards over the fire to smother it out."

  The two coolies caught at the suggestion, and seizing the bale together,they began to push it here and there over the burning place, with theeffect of rapidly smothering out the flaming pitch, dense black smokealone rising wherever the bale was passed; but unfortunately a heatedgas kept on ascending from the blackened boards, and that caught fireagain with a little explosion as the bale glided away.

  Perseverance won, however, but none too soon, for all danger had hardlybeen swept away before another of the pots came hissing and fuming in,but without breaking; and this was jerked out, sending the attackingparty flying from the place where it was expected to fall, the painfulexamples they had seen making the assailants pretty careful now.

  This one was followed by several more, and then, to the great relief ofthe defenders, there was a cessation, and the assailants could be seengathering together as if to listen to a mandarin-like officer who wasrisking his life while talking vehemently to his followers, who had nowdrawn away from the walls and were collected close to the edge of thewharf, many glancing at the junks as if disposed to rush on board.

  "They're beginning to turn tail now," said Stan to the warehouseman whohad spoken out so firmly. "I think we had better give them a volley andstart them off with a run."

  "I'm afraid that it would be just as likely to enrage them all themore."

  "Yes, sir," said Lawrence, Stan's lieutenant; "perhaps we had betterwait; but my fingers are itching to bring down that captain, or chief,or whatever he is."

  "He seems to be urging them on," said Stan thoughtfully--verythoughtfully, for he had an idea in his head, one that would give theman a chance for his life, which might not be the case if he told hislieutenant to fire.

  For now that the attack had ceased and the pirates' fiery missiles hadleft off making his nerves quiver at the prospect of the fire gainingthe mastery and driving them out of their stronghold, the lad feltanything but bloodthirsty; while he thought that if this leader, whoseemed now to be the most prominent of all, were disabled, his followersmight set the example of taking to flight.

  "Look here," said the lad suddenly; "I think I could hit that man fromhere."

  "Of course you could, sir," cried his lieutenant eagerly. "I saw howyou were firing at first and never seemed to miss. Will you have atry?"

  Stan made no reply, but stood fingering his rifle for a few momentsb
efore, to the great delight of the party of defenders, he sank down onone knee, resting the barrel of his piece upon a bale, and then waitedand watched the Chinaman who was haranguing his men wildly as he stoodjust at the edge of the wharf, now and then raising his arms as hepointed again and again at the great store.

  As he finished there was a tremendous shout, and every man of the crowdof listeners began to wave his spear or sword.

  Just then the crowd opened out as if to form in two parties for a rushat the warehouse, leaving their leader standing out quite clear, histall, commanding figure looking huge in the sunshine.

  "Here they come! Look out!" arose from within, and the whole body werein motion, when--

  _Crack_!

  The sharp report of Stan's rifle was heard, followed by the floating upof a puff of grey smoke, and the sound seemed to act like magic, for theattacking party stood fast, staring in amazement at their chief, whoselegs suddenly doubled up beneath him, and he fell back into the arms oftwo men who rushed forward to his help.

  "Good shot!" cried several of the defenders.

  "A dead man," said Stan's lieutenant.

  "I was afraid I could not do it," said Stan, smiling; "but he's not adead man, for I only fired at his legs. Look! they're carrying him onboard the junk."

  It was as the lad said: several of the men from the crowd went back tohelp, while the rest stood fast watching and waiting as if, losing theirheads, they had suddenly been struck with a feeling of indecision. Allthe wild, savage desire for destruction had been discharged like so muchelectricity at the touch of a rod, and a feeling of hopefulness sprangup amongst the defenders as they could see that the whole of theattacking party were now gathered into groups talking eagerly, so thatthere was a low, buzzing hum instead of the chorus of savage yells andthreats.

  "Where's Wing?" said Stan suddenly, as a thought struck him respectingtaking advantage of the lull. "I know: he is with Mr Blunt. One ofyou go and tell him to send the servants with anything he can gettogether in the way of food. Another of you bring a bucket ofdrinking-water up here."

  The orders were carried out, and with watchful eyes and rifles ready tohand, the whole party partook of the rough refreshments passed round,the water proving, in their excited state, the principal object to whichthey directed their attention.

  Wing limped up to Stan as soon as he had performed his task, to announcethat Mr Blunt had gone "fas' 'sleep. Velly weak; can'tee sit up.Dlinkee big lot wateh."

  Stan longed to go and see his chief, but duty kept him there watchingthe actions of the men still crowding the wharf, till some one inauthority began to shout, when his followers crept up together as if fora fresh attack.

  This brought the refreshing to a hasty end, every man hurrying at onceto his post, but only to set up a subdued cheer, for, to Stan's intensedelight, the next order seemed to be one for making the fighting-menseparate into half-a-dozen different parties, as if drilled to certainmovements; but it only proved to be for forming up in the divisionsbelonging to each junk, on to which they now began to file, eitherdirect from the wharf or across the nearest vessels to their own.

  "They've had enough of it, sir," said one of the clerks excitedly."Hadn't we better give them a cheer and a few parting shots?"

  "No," said Stan thoughtfully; "it would only be wasting ammunition. Ican't quite believe in their giving up so easily."

  "Easily!" said another to one of his companions. "Not much of that.Look at the dead and wounded."

  There was no need to draw attention to the poor wretches lying about,for their horrible presence was a burden to every one in the warehouse.Many were lying dead where they had received the fatal bullets, but manymore lay where they had crawled painfully so as to get into shelter,evidently in the full expectation that if they did not get under coverthey would be made the mark for fresh bullets. And oddly enough, as itseemed to the defender the cover most affected was the tea-chest wall,where those who crawled up lay close, with only a leg or arm visible tothe watchers at the windows. They were, of course, so near that theirgroans came floating in through the openings, and now that they were_hors de combat_ Stan became exercised in his mind as to whether heought not to take some steps to give the poor wretches water, and hesuggested it to his lieutenant.

  "Yes," said the latter, "I've been thinking something of the kind, sir;but it would be terribly risky work. They are savages to a man, and aslikely as not they would turn upon the hand that came to their help.You see, they're sure to have their knives and swords with them, andsome of them their rifles. There, for instance," he continued, pointingthrough the window where they stood to the stock of a _jingal_ whosebarrel was out of sight, being close under the wall where its owner lay.

  "Yes, I'm afraid it would be risky; but if I went with a bucket of waterand a tin dipper they never could be such wretches as to turn upon me."

  "My dear sir," was the reply, "if one didn't another would. But youcouldn't possibly do it."

  "I could, and I should feel plenty of confidence in their seeing what Imeant."

  "Then your confidence would be misplaced, sir," said the man decisively."They'd all think you had gone out to poison them, and would turn uponyou at once."

  "Oh, impossible!" cried Stan. "They'd be bound to see."

  "They'd see, sir," said the man firmly, "but they wouldn't understand.Men who go about getting their living by slaughtering theirfellow-creatures can't grasp the meaning of an act of self-denial.Besides, you couldn't go."

  "I could: why not?"

  "Because you are captain, and can't leave your men."

  Stan made an impatient gesture.

  "But I could, sir," continued Lawrence quietly; "and if you order meI'll go."

  Stan looked at him sharply.

  "I mean it, sir," said the man, with a peculiar smile; "but all the sameI hope you will not send me."

  "I can't," said Stan. "How can I send you where I hold back from goingmyself?"

  At that moment the man stretched out his hand sharply and caught the ladby the arm.

  "What's that for?" said Stan sharply.

  "Look in that first junk."

  "Yes; I'm looking. They're getting ready to hoist sail and go--No! Isee now. They're afraid to come to close quarters. They're loadingthat gun."

  "That's right; and the crews of the other junks are at the same game."