The Beautiful White Devil E-Book

Guy Broothby

• Herausgeber: Greenbooks editore
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

Broothby is amazingly forward thinking in his portrayal of women. The heroine is a first class woman. She is intelligent, beautiful, commanding, and respected. She is everything a leader should be, shows courage in the face of danger and is not even once portrayed in any way less than perfect.

Leseprobe

Guy Broothby

Guy Broothby

THE BEAUTIFUL WHITE DEVIL

ISBN 979-12-5971-714-6

Greenbooks editore

Digital edition

May 2021

www.greenbooks-editore.com

ISBN: 979-12-5971-714-6

This ebook was created with StreetLib Writehttp://write.streetlib.com

Index

THE BEAUTIFUL WHITE DEVIL

THE BEAUTIFUL WHITE DEVIL

CHAPTER I

How I Come to Hear of the Beautiful White Devil

The night was sweltering hot, even for Hong Kong. The town clock had just chimed a quarter–past ten, and though the actual sound of the striking had died away, the vibration of the bells lingered for nearly half a minute on the murky stillness of the air. In spite of the exertions of the punkah coolie, the billiard–room of the Occidental Hotel was like the furnace–doors of Sheol. Benwell, of the Chinese Revenue cutter Y–Chang, and Peckle, of the English cruiser Tartaric, stripped nearly to the buff, were laboriously engaged upon a hundred up; while Maloney, of the San Francisco mail–boat, and I, George De Normanville, looked on, and encouraged them with sarcasms and utterly irrational advice. Between times the subdued jabbering of a group of rickshaw coolies, across the pavement, percolated in to us, and mingled with the click of the billiard balls and the monotonous whining of the punkah rope; then the voice of a man in the verandah upstairs, singing to the accompaniment of a banjo, drifted down, and set us beating time with our heels upon the wooden floor.

The words of the song seemed strangely out of place in that heathen land, so many thousand miles removed from Costerdom. But the wail of the music had quite a different effect. The singer’s voice was distinctly a good one, and he used it with considerable ability:

“She wears an artful bonnet, feathers stuck all on it, Covering a fringe all curled;

She’s just about the neatest, prettiest, and sweetest Donna in the wide, wide world.

And she’ll be Mrs. ‘Awkins, Mrs. ‘Enry ‘Awkins, Got her for to name the day.

We settled it last Monday, so to church on Sunday, Off we trots the donkey shay.

“Oh, Eliza! Dear Eliza! If you die an old maid You’ll only have yourself to blame.

D’ye hear Eliza—dear Eliza!

Mrs. ‘Enry ‘Awkins is a fust–class name.”

Half a dozen other voices took up the chorus, and sent it rolling away over the litter of sampans alongside the wharf, out to where the red and blue funnel boats lay at anchor half a mile distant. The two players chalked their cues and stopped to participate.

“Oh, Eliza! Dear Eliza! If you die an old maid You’ll only have yourself to blame.

Oh, Eliza! Dear Eliza!

Mrs. ‘Enry ‘Awkins is a fust–class name.”

The music ceased amid a burst of applause.

“Sixee, sixee—sevenee–three,” repeated the marker mechanically.

“Give me the rest, you almond–eyed lubber,” cried Peckle with sudden energy; “we’ll return to business, for I’ll be hanged if I’m going to let myself be beaten by the bo’sun tight and the midshipmite of a bottle–nosed, unseaworthy Chinese contraband.”

Maloney knocked the ash off his cigar on his chair–arm and said, by way of explanation, “Our friend Peckle, gentlemen, chowed last night at Government House. He hasn’t sloughed his company manners yet.”

Benwell sent the red whizzing up the table into the top pocket, potted his opponent into the right–hand middle, by way of revenge, and then gave the customary miss in baulk.

“A Whitechapel game and be hanged to you,” said Peckle contemptuously. “I’ll bet you a dollar I―Hullo! who’s this? Poddy, by all that’s human! Watchman, what of the night?

Why this indecent haste?”

The newcomer was a short podgy man, with a clean–shaven red face, white teeth, very prominent eyes, large ears, and almost marmalade–coloured hair. He was in a profuse perspiration, and so much out of breath that for quite two minutes he was unable to answer their salutations.

“Poddy is suffering from a bad attack of suppressed information,” said Benwell, who had been examining him critically. “Better prescribe for him, De Normanville. Ah, I forgot, you don’t know one another. Let me introduce you—Mr. Horace Venderbrun, Dr. De Normanville. Now you’re acquent, as they say in the farces.”

“Out with it, Poddy,” continued Peckle, digging him in the ribs with the butt of his cue. “If you don’t tell us soon, we shall be sorrowfully compelled to postpone our engagements to–morrow in order to witness your interment in the Happy Valley.”

“Well, in the first place,” began Mr. Venderbrun, “you must know―” “Hear, hear, Poddy. A dashed good beginning!”

“Shut up, Peckle, and give the minstrel a chance. Now, my Blondel, pipe your tuneful lay.”

“You must know that the Oodnadatta―”

“Well—well, Skipper—Perkins, martinet and teetotaller; chief officer, Bradburn, otherwise the China Sea Liar! What about her? She sailed this evening for Shanghai?”

“With a million and a half of specie aboard. Don’t forget that! Went ashore in the Ly–ee– moon Pass at seven o’clock. Surrounded by junks instantly. Skipper despatched third officer in launch full steam for assistance. Gunboat went down post haste, and, like most gunboats, arrived too late to be of any use. Apologies, Peckle, old man! Skipper and ten men shot, chief officer dirked, first saloon passengers of importance cleaned of their valuables and locked up in their own berths. The bullion room was then rifled, and every red cent of the money is gone—goodness knows where. Now, what d’you think of that for

news?”

“My gracious!”

“What junks were they?” “Nobody knows.”

“The Ly–ee–moon Pass, too! Right under our very noses. Criminy! Won’t there be a row!” “The Beautiful White Devil again, I suppose?”

“Looks like it, don’t it? Peckle, my boy, from this hour forward the papers will take it up, and—well, if I know anything of newspapers, they’ll drop it on to you gunboat fellows pretty hot.”

“If I were the British Navy I’d be dashed if I’d be beaten by a woman.” “Hear, hear, to that. Now for your defence, Peckle.”

“Go ahead; let me have it. I’m down and I’ve got no friends; but it’s all very well for you gentlemen of England, who sit at home in ease, to sneer. If you only knew as much as we do of the lady you wouldn’t criticise so freely. Personally, I believe she’s a myth.”

“Don’t try it, old man. We all know the Lords Commissioners will stand a good deal, but, believe me, they’ll never swallow that. They’ve had too many proofs to the contrary lately.”

I thought it was time to interfere.

“Will somebody take pity on a poor barbarian and condescend to explain,” I said. “Since I’ve been in the East I’ve heard nothing but Beautiful White Devil—Beautiful White Devil—Beautiful White Devil. Tiffin at Government House, Colombo—Beautiful White Devil; club chow, Yokohama—Beautiful White Devil; flagship, Nagasaki—Beautiful White Devil; and now here. All Beautiful White Devil, and every yarn differing from its predecessor by miles. I can tell you, I’m beginning to feel very much out of it.”

Each of the four men started in to explain. I held up my hand in entreaty. “As you are strong, be merciful,” I cried. “Not all at once.”

One of the silent–footed China–boys brought me a match for my cigar, and held it until I had obtained a light. Then, throwing myself back in the long cane chair, I bade them work their wicked wills.

“Let Poddy tell,” said Peckle. “He boasts the most prolific imagination. Go on, old man, and don’t spare him.”

Venderbrun pulled himself together, signed for silence, and, having done so, began theatrically: “Who is the Beautiful Devil? Mystery. Where did she first hail from? Mystery. What is her name, I mean her real name, not the picturesque Chinese cognomen? Mystery. As far as can be ascertained she made her first appearance in Eastern waters in Rangoon, July 24, 18—. Got hold of some native prince blowing the family treasure and blackmailed him out of half a million of dollars. A man would never have come out of the business alive, but she did, and what is more, with the money to boot. Three months later the Vectis Queen went ashore, when forty–eight hours out of Singapore, junks sprang up

out of nowhere, boarded her in spite of stubborn resistance on the part of the ship’s company, looted her bullion room of fifty thousand pounds and her passengers of three thousand more.”

“But what reason have you for connecting the Beautiful White Devil with that affair?”

“White yacht hanging about all the time. Known to be hers. Signals passed between them, and when the money was secured it was straightway carried on board her.”

“All right. Go on.”

“Quite quiet for three months. Then the Sultan of Surabaya chanced to make the acquaintance in Batavia of an extraordinarily beautiful woman. They went about a good deal together, after which she lured him on board a steam yacht in Tanjong Priok, presumably to say good–bye. Having done so, she coaxed him below, sailed off with him there and then, kept him under lock and key until he had paid a ransom of over four hundred thousand guilders, when he was put ashore again. Two months later, Vesey—you know Vesey—of Johore Street, probably the richest man in Hong Kong, met a woman staying at this very hotel. She pretended to be just out from home, and no end innocent.

Well, Vesey was so awfully smitten that he wanted to marry her—bad as all that. She took him in hand, and one day got him to take her for a cruise in his yacht. Of course he jumped at the chance, and off they sailed. Out at sea they were met by a white schooner. I believe Vesey was in the middle of protesting his undying love, and all that sort of thing, you know, when my lady clapped a revolver to his head, and bade him heave–to. A boat put off from the stranger, and both lady and friend boarded her. The long and the short of it was, when Vesey was released he had signed a cheque for fifty thousand pounds, and, by Jove, the money was paid on the nail. Chinese Government have a score against her for abducting a Mandarin of the Gold Button. They tried to catch her but failed. English cruiser went after her for two days and lost her near Formosa. Silence again for three months, then new Governor and wife, Sir Prendergast Prendergast, were coming out here on the Ooloomoo. Her ladyship, whom you know was mixed up in that Belleville business, had her famous diamonds with her—said to be worth thirty thousand pounds.

There was also eighty thousand in gold going up to Shanghai. It is supposed that the purser must have been bribed and in the business; at any rate when they arrived at Hong Kong both bullion, diamonds, and purser were mysteriously missing. Couldn’t find a trace of ‘em high or low. Whether they went overboard in a fog, whether they were still stowed away on board, nobody ever knew. They were gone, that was enough. The Governor was furious, and worried the Admiralty so with despatches that two cruisers were sent off with instructions to look for her. They pottered about, and at last sighted and chased her to the Philippines, where they lost her in a fog. Those are the principal counts against her, I believe. Rum story, ain’t it?”

“Extraordinary. Has anybody ever seen her?”

“I should just think so. Sultan of Surabaya, Vesey, Native Prince, and all the people staying at this house when she was here.”

“What description do they give of her?”

“Quite a young woman—eight–and–twenty at most. Tall and willowy. Beautiful features, clear cut as a cameo—exquisite complexion and rippling golden hair—a voice like a flute,

figure like Venus, and eyes that look through yours into the uttermost depths of your soul.” “Bravo, Poddy! The little man’s getting quite enthusiastic.”

“And isn’t she worth being enthusiastic about? By Jove! I’d like to know her history.”

“And do you mean to tell me that with the English, American, French, German, Chinese, and Japanese fleets patrolling these waters, it’s impossible to catch her?”

“Quite—up to the present. Look at the facts of the case. She’s here to–day, and gone to– morrow. White yacht seen near Singapore to–day—copper–coloured off Macassar on Thursday—black with white ports near Shanghai the week following. The police and the poor old Admiral are turning gray under the strain.”

“By Jove! I’d like to see her.”

“Don’t say that or you will. Nobody ever knows where she’ll turn up next. It is certain that she has agents everywhere, and that she’s in league with half the junk pirates along the coast. Glad I’m not a man worth abducting.”

“But in spite of what you say, I can hardly believe that it’s possible for a woman to carry on such a trade. It’s like a romance.”

“It’s not like it, it is a romance, and a pretty unpleasant one too. Sultan of Surabaya and poor old Vesey were glad enough to see the final chapter of it, I can assure you. You should just hear the latter’s description of the yacht and its appointments. He used to make us creep when he told us how this woman would sit on deck, looking him through and through out of her half closed eyes till he began to feel as if he’d have to get up and scream, or sit where he was and go mad. He saw two or three things on board that boat that he says he’ll never forget, and I gathered that he doesn’t want any more excursions in the lady’s company.”

“He must be a man without imagination.”

“He’s a man blessed with good sound common sense. That’s what he is.” “All the same, as I said before, I’d like to see her.”

“Well, I shouldn’t be surprised if your wish is gratified before long. They’re simply bound to catch her; the wonder to me is that they haven’t done so months ago.”

“It seems incredible that she should have escaped so long.” Peckle took up his cue again.

“Hear, hear, to that. And now, Benwell, my boy, if you don’t want to go to sleep in that chair, turn out and finish the drubbing you’ve begun. I must be getting aboard directly.”

Benwell rose, and went round the table to where his ball lay under the cushion. The imperturbable marker called the score as if there had been no pause in the game, and the match was once more getting under way, when the swing doors opened and an elderly man entered the room. He was dressed in white from top to toe, carried a big umbrella, and wore a broad–brimmed solar topee upon his head. Once inside, he paused as if irresolute, and then, looking round on its occupants, said politely:

“Forgive my intrusion; but can you tell me where I can find a gentleman named De

Normanville?”

“I am that person!” I said, rising from my chair.

“I hope you will not think me rude,” he continued, “but if you could allow me the honour of five minutes’ conversation with you I should be obliged.”

“With pleasure.”

I crossed the room to where he stood, and signed him to a seat near the door.

“Pardon me,” he said, “but the business about which I desire to consult you is of a highly important and confidential nature. Is there any room in the hotel where we can be alone?”

“Only my bedroom, I’m afraid,” I answered. “We shall be quite free from interruption there.”

“That will do excellently. Let us go to it.”

With that we went upstairs. All the way I was puzzling my brains to think what he could want with me. The man was so mysterious, and yet so palpably desirous of pleasing, that I was becoming quite interested. One thing was certain—I had never seen him before in my life.

Arriving at my room, I lit a candle and pushed a chair forward for him; having done so I took up my position beside the open window. Down in the street below I could hear the subdued voices of the passers–by, the rattle of rickshaws, and the chafing of sampans alongside the wharf. I remember, too, that the moon was just rising over the mainland, and to show how unimportant things become engraved upon the memory, I recollect that it struck me as being more like the yolk of a hard–boiled egg than ever I remember to have thought it before. Suddenly I remembered the laws of hospitality.

“Before we begin business, may I offer you some refreshment?” I asked—“B. and S.? Whisky?”

“I am obliged to you,” he answered. “I think I will take a little whisky, thank you.” I put my head out of the door. A servant was passing.

“Boy, bring two whisky pegs.”

Then returning to my guest, I said: “Do you smoke? I think I can give you a good cigar.” He took one from the box and lit it, puffing the smoke luxuriously through his nose.

Presently the pegs were forthcoming, and when I had signed the chit I asked his business. “You are a stranger in Hong Kong, I believe, Dr. De Normanville?” he began.

“Not only in Hong Kong, but you might say in the East generally,” I answered. “I am out on a tour to study Asiatic diseases for a book I am writing.”

“You have achieved considerable success in your profession, I believe. We have even heard of you out here.”

I modestly held my tongue. But so pitiful is the vanity of man that from this time forward I began to look upon my companion with a more friendly air than I had hitherto shown him.

“Now, forgive my impertinence,” he continued, “but how long do you contemplate remaining in the East?”

“It is very uncertain,” I replied; “but I almost fancy another six weeks will find me upon a

P. and O. boat homeward bound.”

“And in that six weeks will your time be very importantly occupied?”

“I cannot say, but I should rather think not. So far as I can tell at present my work is accomplished.”

“And now will you let me come to business. To put it bluntly, have you any objection to earning a thousand pounds?”

“Not the very least!” I answered with a laugh. “What man would have? Provided, of course, I can earn it in a legitimate manner.”

“You have bestowed considerable attention upon the treatment of small–pox, I believe?” “I have had sole charge of two small–pox hospitals, if that’s what you mean.”

“Ah! Then our informant was right. Well, this business, in which a thousand pounds is to be earned, has to do with an outbreak of that disease.”

“And you wish me to take charge of it?”

“That is exactly what I am commissioned to negotiate.” “Where is the place?”

“I cannot tell you!”

“Not tell me? That’s rather strange, is it not?”

“It is all very strange. But with your permission I will explain myself more clearly.” I nodded.

“It is altogether an extraordinary business. But, on the other hand, the pay is equally extraordinary. I am commissioned to find a doctor who will undertake the combating of an outbreak of small–pox on the following terms and conditions: The remuneration shall be one thousand pounds; the doctor shall give his word of honour not to divulge the business to any living soul; he shall set off at once to the affected spot, and he shall still further pledge himself to reveal nothing of what he may have heard or seen when he returns here again. Is that clear to you?”

“Perfectly. But it’s a most extraordinary proposition.”

“I grant you it is. But it is a chance that few men would care to let slip.” “How is the person undertaking it to find the place?”

“I will arrange that myself.”

“And how is he to return from it again?”

“He will be sent back in the same way that he goes.” “And when must he start?”

“At once, without delay. Say twelve o’clock to–night.” “It is nearly eleven now.”

“That will leave an hour. Come, Dr. De Normanville, are you prepared to undertake it?” “I don’t really know what to say. There is so much mystery about it.”

“Unfortunately, that is necessary.”

I paced the room in anxious thought, hardly knowing what answer to give. Should I accept or should I decline the offer? The thousand pounds was a temptation, and yet, supposing there were some treachery lurking behind it, that, in my innocence of the East, I could not fathom—what then? Moreover, the adventurous side of the affair, I must own, appealed to me strongly. I was young, and there was something supremely fascinating about the compliment and the mystery that enshrouded it.

“Look here,” I said at length. “Pay me half the money down before I start, as a guarantee of good faith, and I’m your man!”

“Very good. I will even meet you there!”

He put his hand inside his coat and drew out a pocket–book. From this he took five one hundred pound Bank of England notes, and gave them to me.

“There, you have half the money.”

“Thank you. Really, I must beg your pardon for almost doubting you, but―”

“Pray say no more. You understand the conditions thoroughly. You are not to divulge a detail of the errand to any living soul now or when you return.”

“I will give you my word I will not.”

“Then that is settled. I am much obliged to you. Can you arrange to meet me on the wharf exactly at midnight?”

“Certainly. I will be there without fail. And now tell me something of the outbreak itself. Is it very severe?”

“Very. There have already been nearly a hundred cases, out of which quite fifty have proved fatal. Your position will be no sinecure. You will have your work cut out for you.”

“So it would appear. Now, if you will excuse me, I will go out and endeavour to obtain some lymph. We shall need all we can get.”

“You need not put yourself to so much trouble. That has been attended to. To prevent any suspicion arising from your asking for such a thing, we have laid in a stock of everything you can possibly need.”

“Very well, then. I will meet you on the wharf.”

“On the wharf at twelve o’clock precisely. For the present, adieu!”

He shook me by the hand, picked up his hat and umbrella, and disappeared down the staircase, while I returned to my room to pack.

CHAPTER II

An Eventful Voyage

The last stroke of twelve was just booming out on the muggy night when I stepped on to the landing–stage to await my mysterious employer. The hotel servant who had carried my bag put it down, and having received his gratuity left me. The soft moonlight flooded everything, threw quaint shadows upon the wharf planks, shone upon the sleeping sampans beside it, and gurgled in oily wreaths on the placid water in the depths between them. Very few people were abroad, and those who were had no attention to spare for me. The Sikh policeman, who passed and repassed, alone seemed to wonder what a white lord could be doing in such a place at such a time. But doubtless he had had experience of the curious ways of Sahibdom, and, being a wise man, if he possessed any curiosity, he refrained from giving me evidence of the fact.

Suddenly the patter of naked feet behind me caught my ear. A Chinese chair, borne by two stalwart bearers, was approaching. Very naturally I settled it in my own mind that it contained the man whom I was to meet, and turned to receive him. But when the conveyance was set down, it was not the respectable Englishman I had seen before who stepped out of it, but a portly Chinaman of considerable rank and dignity. He was gorgeously clad in figured silk; his pigtail reached halfway to his heels and was adorned with much ornamentation; and I noticed that he wore large tortoiseshell spectacles which, while they completely hid his eyes, gave a curious effect to his otherwise not unhandsome countenance. Having descended from his equipage, he dismissed his bearers, and began to stump solemnly up and down the landing–stage, drawing closer and closer to me at every turn. Presently he summoned up courage enough to accost me. To my surprise he said:

“What for you come here one piecee look see?”

Not being an adept at pigeon English, I simply answered— “I’m afraid I don’t understand you.”

“What for you come here look see?” “I’m waiting for a friend.”

“Your friend allee same Engleesman?” “Yes, I believe he’s an Englishman.” “You go ‘way look see chop–chop?”

“You’ll excuse me, but that’s my own affair, I think.” “Allee same smallee pox, I think!”

“You may think what you please.”

“S’posing you say, smallee poxee, allee same one piecee thousan’ pound?”

“I’m afraid I can’t continue this conversation. Good evening.”

I turned on my heel, and was about to leave him, when he stopped me by saying in excellent English:

“Thank you, Dr. De Normanville. I’m quite satisfied.” “Good gracious, what’s all this?”

“Why, it means that I have been trying you, that’s all. Forgive the deception, but the importance of our mission must be my excuse. Now we must be going. Here is the boat.”

As he spoke, a large sampan shot out from among its companions and came swiftly towards the wharf.

“Two cautions before we embark. The first—remember that I am a Chinaman, and speak only pigeon English. The second—if you are armed, be careful of your revolver. The men who work the junk we are going down to meet are not to be trusted; hence my disguise.”

He left me and descended the steps. The sampan by this time had come alongside; a woman was rowing and a vigorous conversation in Chinese ensued. When it was finished my companion beckoned to me, and picking up my bag I went down to him. Next moment I was aboard and stuffed away in the little pokey rat–hole of a cabin amidships. My friend took his place beside me, a small boy took the helm, and we pushed off. Not a word was spoken, and in this fashion for nearly an hour we pursued our way down the harbour, passed a flotilla of junks, threaded a course between the blue and red funnel boats, and finally swept out into the clear space that stretches away from Port Victoria as far as Green Island.

For hours we seemed to be imprisoned in that stuffy little cabin. Like most sampans, the boat smelt abominably, and as we could only see the mechanical rowing of the women in the well forrard, and hear the occasional commands of the tiny boy steering aft, our enjoyment may be placed on the debit side of the account without any fear of miscalculation.

At length my companion, who had not uttered a word since he stepped aboard, began to show signs of impatience. He rose from his seat and peered out into the night. Presently he appeared to be a little relieved in his mind, for he reseated himself with a muttered “Thank goodness,” and gave himself up to a careful consideration of our position. Through a slit in the tarpaulin I could just see that we were approaching a big junk, whose ample girth almost blocked the fairway. Her great, square cut stern loomed above us, and round it our coxswain steered us with a deftness extraordinary.

As we came alongside one of the women rowing drew in her oar and said a few words to my companion. In answer he stepped out of the shelter and called something in Chinese. A voice from the junk replied, and the answer being evidently satisfactory we hitched on and prepared to change vessels. A rope was thrown to us, and when it had been made fast my guide signed to me to clamber aboard. I did so, and the next moment was on the junk’s deck assisting him to a place beside me.

Two or three men were grouped about amidships watching us, and one, the owner, or skipper of the boat I presumed, entered upon a longwinded conversation with my

conductor. As they talked I heard the sampan push off and disappear astern. Then our crew fell to work—the great sails were hoisted, a hand went aft to the tiller, and within five minutes we were waddling down the straits at a pace that might possibly have been four knots an hour. All this time my companion had not addressed me once. His whole attention seemed to be concentrated upon the work going on around him. He treated me with the contemptuous indifference generally shown by Chinamen towards barbarian Englishmen, and this I was wise enough not to resent.

I will not deny, however, that I was nervous. The mysterious errand on which I was bound, the emphatic, but not reassuring, warning of my astute companion, and the company in which I now found myself, were calculated to have this effect. But as we left the land behind us and waddled out to sea, my fears began in a measure to subside, and I found myself gazing about me with more interest than I should at any other time have thought possible.

The junk was one of the largest I had ever seen, and, like most of her class, appeared to be all masts, sails, and stern. The crew were as usual very numerous, and a more evil–looking lot no one could possibly wish to set eyes on; the face of one little pock–marked fellow being particularly distasteful to me. That this individual, for some reason, bore me no good will I was pretty positive, and on one occasion, in passing where I stood, he jolted against me in such a fashion and with such violence that he nearly capsized me. At any other time I should have resented his behaviour, but, bearing in mind my companion’s advice, I held my peace.

By this time it was nearly two o’clock. The wind was every moment freshening and a brisk sea rising. The old tub began to pitch unpleasantly, and I found repeated occasion to thank my stars that I was a good sailor. Sharp dashes of spray broke over her decks at every plunge, soaking us to the skin, and adding considerably to the unpleasantness of our position. Still, however, my companion did not speak, but I noticed that he watched the men about him with what struck me as increased attention.

Seeing that I had had no sleep at all that night it may not be a matter of much surprise that I presently began to nod. Stowing myself away in a sheltered corner, I was in the act of indulging in a nap when I felt a body fall heavily against me. It was my companion who had dropped asleep sitting up, and had been dislodged by a sudden roll of the ship. He fell clean across me, his face against my ear. Next moment I knew that the catastrophe was intentional.

“Keep your eyes open,” he whispered as he lay; “there is treachery aboard. We shall have trouble before long.”

After that you may be sure I thought no more of sleep. Pulling myself together I slipped my hand into the pocket that had contained my revolver, only to find, to my horror and astonishment, that it was gone. My pocket had been picked since I had come aboard the junk.

My consternation may be better imagined than described, and as soon as I could find occasion I let my companion know of my misfortune.

“I gave you fair warning,” he replied calmly, “now we shall probably both lose our lives. However, what can’t be cured must be endured, so pretend to be asleep and don’t move,

whatever happens, until you hear from me. That little pock–marked devil haranguing the others forrard is Kwong Fung, the most notorious pirate along the whole length of the coast, and if we fall into his hands, well, there will not be two doubts as to what our fate will be.”

He tumbled over on to his side with a grunt, while I shut my eyes and pretended to be asleep. It was growing cold; the wind was rising and with it the sea. Already the stars in the East were paling perceptibly, and in another hour, at most, day would be born.

It’s all very well for people to talk about coolness and presence of mind in moments of extreme danger. Since the events I’m now narrating took place, I’ve been in queerer quarters than most men, and though I’ve met with dozens who could be brave enough when the actual moment for fighting arrived, I’ve never yet encountered one who could lie still, doing nothing, for three–quarters of an hour, watching his death preparing for him, and not show some sign of nervousness. Frankly, I will admit that I was afraid. To have to lie on that uncomfortable heaving deck, a big sea running, and more than a capful of wind blowing, watching, in the half dark, a gang of murderous ruffians plotting one’s destruction, would try the nerves of the boldest of men. Small wonder then that my lower limbs soon became like blocks of ice, that my teeth chattered in my head, and that an indescribable sinking sensation assumed possession of my internal regions. I could not take my eyes off the group seated frog fashion on the deck forrard. Their very backs held an awful fascination for me.

But, as it soon turned out, my interest in them was almost my undoing. For had I not been so intent upon watching what was before me I should perhaps have heard the rustling of a human body outside the bulwarks against which I had seated myself. In that case I should have detected the figure that had crawled quietly over and was now stealing along the deck towards where I lay. In his hand he carried a thin cord at the end of which was a noose just capable of encircling my head.

Suddenly I felt something touch my throat. I lifted my head, and at the same instant the truth dawned upon me. I was being strangled. How long a time elapsed between the cord’s touching my neck and my losing consciousness I could not say, but brief as was the interval, I can recollect seeing my companion half raise himself. Then came a flash, a loud report, a sudden singing in my ears, and I remember no more.

When I recovered my wits again my companion was bending over me.

“Thank God,” he said piously, “I began to think the brute had done for you. Now pull yourself together as fast as you can, for there’s going to be serious trouble.”

I looked round me as well as I could. By my side lay the body of the man, with the cord still in his hand, and from the way in which one arm was stretched out and the other doubled under him, I gathered that he was dead. Amidships the crew of the junk were assembled, listening to the excited oratory of the little pock–marked devil against whom my companion had warned me. He held in his hand a revolver—mine, I had no difficulty in guessing—and, from the way in which he turned and pointed in our direction, I understood that he was explaining to the others the necessity which existed for exterminating us without delay. I turned to my companion and warmly thanked him for the shot that had saved my life.

“Don’t mention it,” he answered coolly. “It was fortunate I saw him coming. You must remember that besides saving you it has put one of our adversaries out of the way, and every one against odds like this counts. By the way, you’d better find something to lay about you with—for from all appearance we’re in for a big thing.”

Under the bulwarks, and a little to the left of where I sat, was a stout iron bar some two feet six in length. I managed to secure it, and having done so, felt a little easier in my mind.

As I crawled back to my station another report greeted my ears, and at the same instant a bullet bedded itself in the woodwork, within an inch of my left temple.

“That’s the introduction,” said my imperturbable friend with a grim smile. “Are you ready? He’s got the only weapon among them and five more cartridges left in it. Keep by me and give no quarter—for remember if they win they’ll show you none.”

Bang! Another bullet whizzed past my ear.

Bang! My companion gave a low whistle and then turned to me.

“Grazed my forearm,” he said calmly, and then raising his pistol shot the nearest of our assailants dead. The man gave a little cry, more like a sob, and with outspread arms fell on his face upon the deck. The next roll of the vessel carried him into the lee scuppers, where for some time he washed idly to and fro. Never in my life before had I seen anything so coolly deliberate as the way in which he was picked off. It was more like rabbit shooting than anything else.

“Two cartridges gone!” said my comrade.

As he spoke a bullet tore up the deck at my feet, while another grazed my right shoulder.

“Four. Keep steady; he’s only two left. Look out then, for they’ll rush us to a certainty! I wish I could get another shot at them first.”

But this wish was not destined to be gratified. The scoundrels had had sufficient evidence of his skill as a marksman, and being prudent, though precious, villains they had no desire to receive further proof of it. They therefore kept in shelter.

Minute after minute went slowly by, and everyone found the night drawing further off the sky, and the light widening more perceptibly. But still no sign came from those in hiding forrard. To my mind this watching and waiting was the worst part of the whole business. All sorts of fresh horrors seemed to cluster round our position as we crouched together in the shelter aft.

Suddenly, without any warning, and with greater majesty than I ever remember to have observed in him before or since, the sun rose in the cloudless sky. Instantly with his coming, light and colour shot across the waters, the waves from being of a dull leaden hue became green and foam–crested, and the great fibre sails of the junk from figuring as blears of double darkness, reaching up to the very clouds, took to themselves again their ordinary commonplace and forlorn appearance.

Our course lay due east, and for this reason the sun shone directly in our faces, dazzling us, and for the moment preventing our seeing anything that might be occurring forrard. I

could tell that this was a matter of some concern to my companion, and certainly it was not to remain very long a matter of indifference to me.