"No, catchee," he said despondently. "Pilate velly cunning. See Queen Victolia ship say big gun go bang. 'Top away."

"But where do you think they hide?"

"Evelywhere," he said. "Plentee liver, plenty cleek, plenty hide away."

"Then we shall never catch them?" I said.

"Ching wantee catchee, wantee plenty money; but pilate won't come.

Pilate 'flaid."

"And I suppose, as soon as we go away, they'll come out and attack the first merchantman that comes along the coast."

"Yes," said Ching coolly; "cut allee boy float, settee fire junk, burnee ship."

"Then what's to be done?" I said. "It's very disappointing."

"Ching go back fancee shop; no catchee pilate, no plize-money."

"Oh, but we shall drop upon them some day."

"No dlop upon pilate. Ching not captain. Ching catchee."

"How?" I said.

"Take big ship back to liver. Put big gun, put jolly sailor 'board two big junk, and go sail 'bout. Pilate come thinkee catchee plenty silk, plenty tea. Come aboard junk. Jolly sailor chop head off, and no more pilate."

"That sounds well, Ching," I said; "but I don't think we could do that."

"No catchee pilate?" he said. "Ching velly tire. No good, velly hungry; wantee go back fancee shop."

I thought a good deal about what the Chinaman had said, for it was weary, dispiriting work this overhauling every vessel we saw that seemed likely to be our enemy. It was dangerous work, too, for the narrow sea was foul with reefs; but our information had been that it was in the neighbourhood of the many islands off Formosa that the piratical junks had their nest, and the risk had to be run for the sake of the possible capture to be made.

"Ching says he wants to get back to the fancee shop," sad Smith one morning. "So do I, for I'm sick of this dreary work. Why, I'd rather have another of our days ash.o.r.e."

"Not you," I said. "But I say, look here, I haven't spoke about it before, but Ching says--hi, Tanner, come here!"

"That he doesn't," cried Smith.

"Hallo! what is it?" said Barkins, whom I had hailed, and he came over from the port side of the deck.

"I was going to tell Blacksmith what Ching says. You may as well hear too."

"Don't want to. I know."

"What! has he been saying to you--"

"No, not again."

"What did he say?"

"Ti-ope-I-ow!" cried Barkins, imitating the Chinaman's high falsetto, and then striking imaginary strings of a guitar-like instrument.

"_Peng_--_peng-peng_."

"I say, don't fool," I cried angrily.

"Gnat!" said Barkins sharply, "you're a miserably-impudent little scrub of a skeeter, and presume upon your size to say insolent things to your elders."

"No, I don't," I said shortly.

"Yes, you do, sir. You called me a fool just now."

"I didn't."

"If you contradict me, I'll punch your miserable little head, sir. No, I won't, I'll make Blacksmith do it; his fists are a size smaller than mine."

"Be quiet, Tanner!" cried Smith; "he knows something. Now, then, Gnat: what does Ching say?"

"That we shall never catch the pirates, because they won't come out when the gunboat is here."

"Well, there's something in that. Tell Mr Reardon."

"Is it worth while? He says we ought to arm a couple of junks, and wait for the pirates to come out and attack us."

"Ching's Christian name ought to be Solomon," said Smith.

"Thanky wisdom teeth," said Barkins sarcastically. "I say, Gnat, he's quite right. They'd be fools if they did come out to be sunk. I daresay they're watching us all the time somewhere or other from one of the little fishing-boats we see put out."

"Well, young gentlemen," said a sharp voice behind us; "this is contrary to dishipline. You can find something better to do than gossiping."

"Beg pardon, sir, we are not gossiping," said Barkins. "We were discussing the point."

"Oh, indeed," said the first lieutenant sarcastically; "then have the goodness to--"

Barkins saw breakers ahead, and hastened to say--

"The Chinaman says, sir--"

"Don't tell me what the Chinaman says, sir!" cried the lieutenant fiercely.

"But it was about the pirates, sir."

"Eh? What?" cried our superior officer, suddenly changing his tone.

"Has he some idea?"

"Yes, sir. No, sir."

"Mr Barkins! What do you mean, sir?"