Blue Jackets Part 84

He laughed gently.

"Easily enough. They will not sail without getting up their anchors, and we must hear the noise they make."

"But I don't quite see what good we are doing," I whispered.

"Not see? Suppose we had stopped ash.o.r.e, we should not have known of these men coming to strengthen the crews, and we should not have known till daylight whether they had sailed or were still at anchor. This last we shall know very soon, and can follow them slowly. Why, if we had waited till morning and found them gone, which way should we have sailed?"

"I'm very dense and stupid, sir," I said. "I had not thought of that."

"Allee go to s'eep," whispered Ching; "no go 'way to-night."

"What's that mean?" said Mr Brooke in a low voice; and I felt his arm across my chest as he pointed away to the left.

I looked in that direction, and saw a bright gleam of light from the sh.o.r.e.

"Our fire blazing up, sir," said Tom Jecks softly.

"Yes, I suppose so," said Mr Brooke thoughtfully; and as we watched the bright light disappeared, but only to appear again, and this was repeated three times.

"That can't be our fire," said Mr Brooke.

"Fliends on sh.o.r.e tellee pilate what to do," said Ching, with his face close to us.

"What do you mean?" said Mr Brooke.

"Ching know. Show big lamp. Mean big junk going sail mollow morning, and pilate go long way wait for them."

"Why? Couldn't they stay here and wait?"

"No; silk-tea-ship see pilate junk waiting for them, and come out lit'

way and go back again. 'Flaid to sail away."

"Yes, that sounds reasonable," said Mr Brooke thoughtfully.

Then all at once there came over the black water a peculiar squeaking, grinding sound, followed by a similar noise of a different pitch.

"Pilate not going to s'eep; allee look out for light and go sail away d'leckly."

"Yes, we have not wasted our time, Herrick," whispered Mr Brooke.

"They're getting up their anchors."

"And are we going to follow them, sir?" I said softly.

"Yes, my lad; our work has only just begun."

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

TRICKED.

They were singularly quiet, these people on board the junks, I suppose from old experience teaching them that noise made might mean at one time discovery and death, at another the alarming of some valuable intended prize.

This quietness was remarkable, for as we listened there was the creaking and straining of the rough capstan used, but no shouted orders, no singing in chorus by the men tugging at the bars; all was grim silence and darkness, while we lay-to there, waiting and listening to the various faint sounds, till we heard the rattling of the reed-sails as they were hauled up. Then we knew that the junks were off, for there came to us that peculiar flapping, rattling sound made by the waves against a vessel's planks, and this was particularly loud in the case of a roughly-built Chinese junk.

"Are you going to follow them at once?" I said in a whisper.

"Yes, till within an hour of daylight," was the reply. "Now, be silent."

I knew why Mr Brooke required all his attention to be directed to the task he had on hand--very little reflection was necessary. For it was a difficult task in that black darkness to follow the course of those two junks by sound, and keep doggedly at their heels, so as to make sure they did not escape. And then once more the slow, careful steering was kept up, Mr Brooke's hand guiding mine from time to time, while now for the most part we steered to follow the distant whishing sound made by the wind in the junk's great matting-sails.

All at once, when a strange, drowsy feeling was creeping over me, I was startled back into wakefulness by Mr Brooke, who said in an angry whisper--

"Who's that?"

I knew why he spoke, for, though half-asleep the moment before, I was conscious of a low, guttural snore.

"Can't see, sir," came from one of the men. "Think it's Mr Ching."

"No; Ching never makee nose talk when he s'eep," said the Chinaman, and as he spoke the sound rose once more.

"Here, hi, messmate, rouse up!" said the man who had before spoken.

"Eh? tumble-up? our watch?" growled Tom Jecks. "How many bells is--"

"Sit up, Jecks," whispered Mr Brooke angrily. "Next man take the sheet."

There was the rustling sound of men changing their places, and I heard the c.o.xswain whispering to the others forward.

"No talking," said Mr Brooke; and we glided on again in silence, but not many yards before a light gleamed out in front.

"Quick, down at the bottom, all of you! Ching, take the tiller!"

We all crouched down; Ching sat up, holding the tiller, and the light ahead gleamed out brightly, showing the sails and hulls of the two great junks only fifty yards away, and each towing a big heavy boat. There were the black silhouettes, too, of figures leaning over the stern, and a voice hailed us in Chinese, uttering hoa.r.s.e, strange sounds, to which Ching replied in his high squeak.

Then the man gave some gruff order, and Ching replied again. The light died out, and there was silence once more.

"What did he say?" whispered Mr Brooke.

"Say what fo' sail about all in dark?"

"Yes, and you?"

"Tell him hollid big gleat lie! Say, go catchee fish when it glow light."

"Yes."

"And pilate say be off, or he come in boat and cuttee off my head."