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Blue Jackets; or, The Log of the Teaser, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 38. Information |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT. INFORMATION It was too dark to make out the junks, but their direction had been well marked, and Mr Brooke took his measures very carefully. "Perfect silence, my lads," he said. "Perhaps the lives of all here depend upon it. Now, the sail half up; Jecks, hold the sheet; the others sit in the bottom of the boat. Every man to have his arms ready for instant use." There was a quick movement, a faint rattle, and then all still. "Good; very prompt, my lads. Mr Herrick, come and take the tiller, and be ready to obey the slightest whispered command." I hurriedly seated myself by him in the darkness, and waited while our leader now turned to the last man to receive his orders. "You, Ching," he said, "will go right forward to keep a good look-out, ready to give a whispered warning of our approach to the junks. Do you know what a whispered warning means?" "Yes; Ching say see junk so lit' voice you can't hear him." The men tittered. "Silence! Yes, you understand. Now go, and be careful. But mind this, if our boat is seen and the pirates hail, you answer them in their own tongue; do you understand?" "Yes; 'peakee Chinee all along." "That will do." Ching crept forward, and we were gliding along over the dark sea before a gentle breeze, which, however, hardly rippled the water. "Keep a bright look-out for the _Teaser_, Jecks. We may see her lights." "Ay, ay, sir." Then on and on in a silence so deep that the gentle rattle and splash of the sea against our bows sounded singularly loud, and I almost felt drowsy at last, but started back into wakefulness on Mr Brooke touching my arm and whispering-- "I reckon that we shall be very near them in another ten minutes. I want to sail round at a little distance." I nodded, but doubted whether he could see me in the intense darkness, for there was not a star to be seen, the sky being covered with low down black clouds, which seemed to be hanging only a short distance above the sea. Right away behind us was a faint glow telling of the whereabouts of the Chinese city, but seaward there was no sign of the _Teaser's_ or any other lights, for it was like sailing away into a dense black wall, and I began to look forward more and more anxiously as I thought of the possibility of our running with a crash right on to the anchored junks. But I was under orders, and waited for my instructions, keeping the light craft as straight on her course as I could contrive, and grasping the tiller with all my strength. All at once there was a faint rustling, and suddenly I felt Ching's soft hand touch my knee, and I could just make out his big round face. "Listen," he said. Mr Brooke's hand was laid on mine, and the tiller pressed sidewise slowly and gently, so that the boat glided round head to wind, and we lay motionless, listening to the dull creak and regular beat of oars a short distance to the north. Then came a faint groan or two of the oars in their locks, but that was all. We could see nothing, hear no other sound, but all the same we could tell that a large boat of some kind was being pulled in the same direction as that which we had taken. "Men going out to the junks," I said to myself, and my heart beat heavily, so that I could feel it go _throb throb_ against my ribs. I knew that was what must be the case, and that the men would be savage, reckless desperadoes, who would have tried to run us down if they had known of our being there. But they were as much in the dark as we, and I could hear them pass on, and I knew that we must have been going in the right direction for the junk. Then I had clear proof, for all at once there was a low, wailing, querulous cry, which sent a chill through me, it sounded so wild and strange. "Only a sea-bird--some kind of gull," I said to myself; and then I knew that it was a hail, for a short way to the southwards a little dull star of light suddenly shone out behind us, for the boat had of course been turned. There was the answer to the signal, and there of course lay the junk, which in another five minutes we should have reached. Mr Brooke pressed my arm, and we all sat listening to the beating of the oars, slow and regular as if the rowers had been a crew of our well-trained Jacks. Then the beat ceased, there was a faint rattling noise, which I know must have been caused by a rope, then a dull grinding sound as of a boat rubbing against the side of a vessel, and lastly a few indescribable sounds which might have been caused by men climbing up into the junk, but of that I could not be sure. Once more silence, and I wondered what next. Mr Brooke's hand upon mine answered my wonderings. He pressed it and the tiller together, the boat's sail filled gently once more, and we resumed our course, but the direction of the boat was changed more to the north-eastward. We were easing off to port so as to get well to the left of the junks, and for some distance we ran like this; then the hand touched mine again, and the rudder was pressed till we were gliding southward again, but we had not gone far when Ching uttered a low warning, and I just had time to shift the helm and send the boat gliding round astern of a large junk, which loomed up above us like ebony, as we were going dead for it, and if we had struck, our fragile bamboo boat would have gone to pieces like so much touchwood, leaving us struggling in the water. "I don't see what good this reconnoitring is doing," I said to myself, as I sat there in the darkness wondering what was to happen next; but sailors on duty are only parts of a machine, and I waited like the rest to be touched or spoken to, and then acted as I was instructed. For from time to time Mr Brooke's hand rested upon mine, and its touch, with its pressure or draw, told me at once the direction in which he wished me to steer; and so it was that, in that intense darkness, we sailed silently round those junks, going nearer and nearer till I knew exactly how they lay and how close together. But all the while I was in a violent perspiration, expecting moment by moment to hear a challenge, or to see the flash of a match, the blaze up of one of the stink-pots the junks would be sure to have on their decks, and then watch it form a curve of hissing light as it was thrown into our boat. But not a sound came from the junks we so closely approached, and at last, with a sensation of intense relief, I felt Mr Brooke's hand rest on mine for some time, keeping the rudder in position for running some distance away with the wind, before the boat was thrown up again full in its eye, and we came to a stand, with the mat-sail swinging idly from side to side. Hardly had we taken this position, when once more from the direction of the river came the low beat of oars. As we listened, they came on and on, passed us, and the sounds ceased as before just where the junks were lying. This time there was no signal and no answering light, the occupants of the boat finding their way almost by instinct, but there was a hail from the junk to our left, and we could distinguish the murmuring of voices for a time, and the creaking of the boat against the side as the fresh comers climbed on board. "Ah, good information, Mr Herrick!" whispered Mr Brooke. "We have seen nothing, but we know that they have received reinforcements, and now in a very short time we shall know whether they are going to sail or wait till morning." "How?" I said. 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 ashore, 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 shore. "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 shore 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." _ |
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