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"I wouldn't have given much for his chance, if he hadn't had that telescope under his arm. I say, Mr Brown, why was the gun fired?" "To bring you all on board. Captain's got some information. Look, we've weighed anchor, and we're off directly somewhere." "But what about Ching?" I said to Barkins. "Ching! Well, he'll be safe on board and unsafe ashore. I don't suppose we shall be away above a day.
"Perhaps you had better not visit their temples." Smith kicked me. "Or their public buildings." Barkins trod on my toe. "In short, I should be extremely guarded; and I think, on further consideration, I will go to the captain and suggest that you have half-a-dozen marines with you." "Captain's ashore, sir." "Thank you, Mr Herrick. You need not be so fond of correcting me."
I thought this stinging might mean the poison spreading." "Oh no, don't think that," I cried; "and some one told me a Malay prince said it was all nonsense about the knives being poisoned." "He did?" "Yes; he laughed, and said there was no need to poison them, they were quite sharp enough to kill a man without." "That depends on where you put it in," said Barkins grimly.
"Ti ope I ow wow, Ti ope I ow yow, Ti ope I ow tow, Ti ope I ligh." The words, I say, sounded like that: the music it would be impossible to give, for the whole blended together into so lamentable a howl, that both Barkins and Smith started up into wakefulness from a deep sleep, and the former looked wildly round, as confused and wondering he exclaimed "What's matter?"
"Thankye, sir," he cried, as I stood wondering at my own words; "that's done me good;" and he buttoned his jacket up with an intense look of satisfaction. "I'm beginning to think the doctor was right, Gnat," said Barkins one morning. "What about?" I said. "My wound; I don't think the knife was poisoned." "Why, of course it wasn't; you fancied it all."
"Moral: Don't try to peep into mandarins' gateways, Blacksmith," continued Barkins. "Bosh! it's all gammon. I should like to see one of them try to cut my head off." "I shouldn't," I cried, laughing; "and he wouldn't." "No," said Ching perfectly seriously. "Velly bad have head chop off. Head velly useful." "Very," said Barkins mockingly. "Well done, Chinese Wisdom.
I told him all that Ching had said, and the captain nodded his head again and again as I went on. "Yes," he said at last, "I'm afraid he is right, Reardon. It is worth thinking about. What do you say to my sending you and Mr Brooke in a couple of junks?" They walked off together, and we heard no more. "Oh, how I should like to punch old Dishy's head!" said Barkins between his teeth.
"I beg your pardon, sir; I've been going backward and forward to Mr Barkins and Mr Smith." "Ho! Pair of young noodles; what did they want in the boats? Getting hurt like that. Well?" "Beg pardon, sir; would you mind giving me permission to see the prisoners?" "What! why?" "I wanted to see them, sir, and go back and tell my messmates about how they looked." "Humbug!" he cried.
Ching take you have cup flesh tea, and quite well d'leckly. You not likee execution?" I shook my head. "Velly good job cut allee head off. No go killee killee, burn ship no more." "We're not used to seeing such things," I said weakly, as I supported Barkins to keep him from slipping to the ground. "You no go see execution when Queen Victolia cut off bad men's head?" I shook my head.
"And never will," grumbled Smith, as we turned to have another look at the burning barque. "How long will a ship like that be burning, Jecks?" I said to one of the watch. The man scratched his head, and had a good stare at the glowing object in the distance, as if he were making a careful calculation. "Well," said Barkins, "out with it, Tom Jecks; we don't want to know to two minutes and a half."
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