In the Yellow Sea Part 8

"Yes," replied the captain with deference, "she will suit for a transport. _The j.a.panese wish for her_."

The spectacles flashed at us, the fan waved, but no irritation was otherwise expressed.

"Has the j.a.pan Government purchased the 'inside' steamer?" (screw).

"No, highness; I declined the offer. I am awaiting yours."

"Your terms for the steamship for three months, if we wish to send it with your crew to Corea?"

The captain paused a while, then he named a sum which made me look out of the window, I nearly smiled. I did not know the value of steam transports fitted for service; it meant hundreds a day! Hundreds for that small steamer and crew--and, of course, officers.

At length the transaction was completed. The tea was drunk then, not before. We bowed ourselves out, and regained the _Feng Shui_, where the mate was in charge.

"Well," said the first officer, "what's happened?"

The captain told him our experiences, and mentioned the conclusions at which he had arrived.

"Look here," he said in a low tone, "mark ye this, there's going to be a fuss between these two countries. They are both trying to get ahead of the other, and I understand that Corea has a finger in the pie.

That j.a.panese I told ye of--the man I pointed out to ye," he continued, addressing the mate--"ye know."

"Ay, ay; but he's not a j.a.p!"

"Not a j.a.p! What d'ye mean?" exclaimed the captain angrily.

"What I say, captain; _he's_ no j.a.p! He and his pal are Coreans. _I_ can see that. Look at his sleepy face under that 'bowler' hat--a disguise! He isn't a j.a.p; and he wants a secret pa.s.sage, you say.

Things are getting mixed all round. He's up to no good."

"Well, maybe ye're right, Rose," replied the captain. "But why do ye think the Corean men are cutting in against us?"

"I only know what I have seen; I've seen two Coreans searching for a vessel to-day--and on the sly, I hear. They are up to something; and it's all round queer, because they have a Chinese and a j.a.panese with them. Four together, and only the j.a.p looks honest."

"They can't hurt us, so no matter. I'd like to know what they are scheming, by the same token. There's war in it, and the Company's agent knows it. I'll fix it, and we may have to steam for Shanghai on sight. We'll get steam up, Mr. Rose; pa.s.s the word for Jenkins."

Mr. Jenkins was the "chief engineer," and he came to confer with the captain in due course.

I obtained leave for the evening. Fancying that I could clear up the mystery of the j.a.ps and Coreans, I took a sampan, and went out on search through the harbour for the hired, secret vessel.

CHAPTER V

A SECRET MISSION--KIDNAPPED!--THE SCHOONER--THE a.s.sa.s.sIN

As I did not wish my chief to know whither I was bound, I went ash.o.r.e first, and strolled about in the cooler hour of the evening, and even penetrated into the queer Chinese slums where little drums of the peddlers, and the chatter and smells and heat, soon drove me back to the parade, away from the houses of the natives. Their stupid faces, so smooth and greasy-looking, their odd dress, long pigtails (of the men), the coa.r.s.e, rolled hair, pinned in ma.s.ses (of the females), both s.e.xes being costumed nearly alike, quite put me off. Even some experience of the country has not impressed me in favour of the native of China.

So I returned to the water, and calling a "sampan" got the number of the man taken--for many people have been "missed" from a Chinese boat at evening--and told my man to propel me across the harbour towards Kow-loon. This is in China, where the change of the scenery is marked and wild; but I did not come for the prospect, I wanted to search the further side of the harbour, which is about a mile across and ten square miles in extent.

If the Coreans had an idea of secrecy, I imagined they would rather seek a small sailing vessel--perhaps a junk rather than a steamer, though, of course, the latter would be more speedy, and more certain if a storm arose. But they would sail by the north channel, so I made for the north point, the extremity of the peninsula of Kow-loon, which is under British authority by lease.

I pa.s.sed amid the ships of all kinds, large and small, which crowd the harbour; boat-houses (literally dwelling-houses) of the natives who at Hong Kong, as at Canton and Shanghai, and other places, live in the wherries in aggregate thousands. Small and limited is the accommodation, truly, when a family, with a pig, and perhaps ducks, live on board. The chances are in favour of drowning; but the _male_ children are tied to the gunwale; the girls are let to go as they please, and if they disappear--it is "only a girl"! There is little care for life in China--of the natives, I mean--and least of all for female children.

The evening was drawing in, and I had not found any vessel on which I recognised the so-called "j.a.ps." There were hundreds of ships of all sorts, and I was pleased to hear a hail in English from a clipper schooner as I was pa.s.sing in the dusk.

I pulled alongside the vessel whence the "hail" had come, and, when close aboard, I recognised the speaker as a friend who had a.s.sisted me once or twice in the past when I had been unhappy and in need. His name was Eagan.

Glancing along the trim and natty decks of the schooner, I gained the gangway. The little ship was ready to put to sea, the anchor was already weighed, and the schooner was only fast to a buoy, for the breeze was light. I recognised the craft as a former smuggling vessel, and named _Harada_ by her late owner. She traded in "natives" up the coast, and to Formosa, the Pescadores, and as far as Shanghai, or even farther north.

"Hallo! back again?" I cried, as I clasped Eagan's hand.

"Why, certainly," he replied; "think I'd scooted? What are _you_ prowling about for?"

"Simple curiosity," I said. "Thanks, yes, I'll have a 'peg," I added, as he indicated refreshment by a nod in the direction of the cabin.

"A tidy berth this," I continued. "Suits you, anyway."

"Yes, not badly. What's your _simple curiosity_ led you to? I can estimate the curiosity, but I don't see where the simplicity comes in."

"Really?" I asked, as I watched him mixing a soothing draught.

"No, really. What's your spot? What's your little game?"

"My game! I'm just sculling around--that's all."

"By accident. One of your freaks, o' course! Still acting on the _Feng Shui_, I suppose?"

"Yes; but confirmed now--second."

"Ah! Going north yet?"

"Presently--I mean by and by. When do _you_ sail again?"

"When I receive sailin' orders. Maybe to-morrow--maybe never."

"Come, Eagan, you're mysterious, for _you_! Your anchor's a-peak, and you are loosing sails. You are just off. What's the game? Whither bound--honour bright?"

He paused and looked at his tumbler, then raised it and looked at the lamp through the liquid the gla.s.s contained. He slowly brought his eyes back upon mine, and said--

"Honour it is! Chemulpo perhaps--Shanghai certain."

"Oh!" I exclaimed. "I say, Eagan, what's your _j.a.p_ up to?" He started and stared at me, then he replied--

"I say, Jule, what's your _Chinese_ up to?"

"_Rats_," I replied. "What's the coil _here_?"

"_Snakes_," he retorted. "What's your notion?"