"No, no!" cried Ching, who was excited and alarmed, and who now began chattering in his own tongue, all _pang ang nong wong ong_, and a series of guttural sounds, while I could do nothing for laughing, but had to stand like a post for Ching to dodge behind.

"Why don't you stand by, messmate?" growled Tom Jecks. "You can't go through life with that there tin-kettle tied to your tail. Fust one as see yer will be calling, 'Mad dog.'"

By this time the watch had come to see what was going on, and I now began to feel sorry for the Chinaman.

"Here, Ching," I said. "Come down below."

But he was too much alarmed for the moment to listen to my words, expecting every moment as he was that some one would make a s.n.a.t.c.h at his tail, to obviate which accident he was now holding the canister tightly beneath his arm, and looking wildly round for a way to escape.

"Hadn't we better have it took off, sir?" said Tom Jecks, and there was a roar of laughter. "Let's ketch him and take him to the doctor."

"No, no!" cried Ching, dodging round me again, for Tom Jecks, to the delight of the others, made a s.n.a.t.c.h at him.

"You'll be a deal more comfortable, messmate--you know you will. Here, let's have it?"

Tom Jecks made another s.n.a.t.c.h at him, but Ching avoided it, and to save him from further annoyance I too made a s.n.a.t.c.h.

Poor fellow, interpreter though he was, he misinterpreted my intentions.

He tore away from my grasp and made a rush forward, but several men were coming in that direction, and he dashed back to find himself faced by Tom Jecks again. In his desperation he charged right at the sailor, lowering his head as he did so, and striking him with so much force that Tom Jecks went down sprawling, and Ching leaped over him.

There was no way open to him for escape, as it seemed, and he made a rush for the side, leaped up, was on the bulwarks in an instant, and made a s.n.a.t.c.h at the foremast shrouds as if to climb up into the rigging, when either his foot slipped or his long loose cotton jacket caught in something, I don't know how it was, but one moment I saw him staggering, the next there was the terrible cry of "Man overboard"

raised as I rushed toward the side, heard the splash, and got upon the bulwark in time to see the agitated water.

That was all.

It was rapidly getting dark, the tide was running swiftly seaward, and even if the Chinaman could swim it seemed very doubtful whether he could maintain himself long, hampered as he was by his loose clinging clothes.

But at the raising of the cry, "Man overboard," there is not much time lost on board a man-of-war. A crew leaped into the boat; the falls were seized; and in a minute the keel touched the water, and I found myself, as I stood on the bulwark holding on by a rope, called upon to direct those who had gone.

"Which way, sir? See him?"

I could only answer no, and then reply to Mr Reardon, who came up panting.

"Who is it?" he cried. "Mr Herrick?"

"No, sir, I'm here," I shouted. "It's the interpreter."

"And what business had he up on the hammock-rail?" roared the lieutenant as he climbed up there himself. "Steady, my lads, he can't be far."

At that moment there was a flash, and a brilliant blue-light burst out on the surface of the black water, sending a glare all round from where it floated on the trigger life-buoy, which had been detached and glided away astern, while directly after a second blue-light blazed out from the stern of the boat, showing the men dipping their oars lightly, and two forward and two astern shading their eyes and scanning the flashing and sparkling water.

"Can't you see him?" roared the lieutenant.

"No, sir."

We leaped downward, hurried right aft where the captain and the other officers were now gathered, and the orders were given for a second boat to be lowered and help to save the poor fellow.

"He ought to float, sir," said Mr Reardon in answer to some remark from the captain. "He's fat enough."

Then he began shouting orders to the men to row to and fro; and my heart sank as I vainly searched the lit-up water, for there was no sign of the unfortunate Chinaman.

"What a horrible ending to a practical joke!" I thought, and a bitter feeling of disappointment a.s.sailed me, as I asked myself why I had not gone in the second boat to help save the poor fellow.

Perhaps it was vanity, but in those exciting moments I felt that if I had been there I might have seen him, for it never occurred to me that I had a far better chance of seeing him from my post of vantage high up on that quarter-deck rail.

"See him yet?"

"No, sir!"--"No, sir!"

The first hail loudly from close by, the other from far away where the blue-lights shone.

"Bless my soul!" cried Mr Reardon, with an angry stamp. "I can't understand it. He must have come up again."

"Unless his pockets were heavily laden," said the captain, going to where Mr Reardon stood. "These men carry a great deal about them under their long loose clothes. Some heavy copper money, perhaps. A very little would be enough to keep a struggling man down."

"Ha!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mr Reardon, while I shivered at the idea of poor old Ching coming to so terrible an end.

"A gla.s.s here!" cried Mr Reardon, and one was handed up to him.

"Try the life-buoy," cried the captain.

"Bless me, sir, I was going to," retorted the lieutenant irritably; "but the idiot who uses this gla.s.s ought to be turned out of the service for being short-sighted. I shall never get it to the right focus."

The captain gave a dry cough, and I turned round sharply, expecting to hear some angry exclamation.

"No," cried Mr Reardon, "he is not clinging to the life-buoy. I wouldn't for anything that it should have happened. Poor fellow! Poor fellow!"

"Ay, poor fellow!" muttered Captain Thwaites. "Any use to lower another boat, Reardon?"

"No, sir, no," cried the lieutenant, "or I would have had one down.

Ahoy there!" he roared. "Light another blue!"

"Ay, ay, sir!" came from far away, for the tide ran hissing by our sides in full rush for the sea, and the third blue-light which blazed out looked smaller and smaller, while those of the first boat and the life-buoy began to show faint, and then all at once that on the buoy seemed to go out.

"That blue-light ought to have burned longer on the buoy," cried Mr Reardon.

"They've picked up the buoy and laid it across the bows of the boat,"

said Mr Brooke, who was watching through his night-gla.s.s, and at that moment the light blazed out again like a star.

And still the halos shed by the lights grew fainter and fainter. Then one light burned out, and the lieutenant stamped with anger, but there was no cause for his irritation. Another flashed out directly.

The boats were too far away now for us to see much of what was going on, the heads of the men growing blurred, but we saw that they were zig-zagging across the tide, and we listened in vain for the hail and the cheer that should accompany the words--

"Got him, sir!"

The buzz of conversation among the men, who cl.u.s.tered on deck, in the shrouds and tops, grew fainter, and I was thinking whether I was very much to blame, and if I could in any way have saved the poor fellow.

Then I began thinking of the men in the forecastle, and their punishment for being the cause, in their boyish way of playing tricks, of the poor Chinaman's death.