ound made by the waves
against a vessel's planks, and this was particularly loud in the case of
a roughly-built Chinese junk.

"Are you going to follow them at once?" I said in a whisper.

"Yes, till within an hour of daylight," was the reply. "Now, be
silent."

I knew why Mr Brooke required all his attention to be directed to the
task he had on hand--very little reflection was necessary. For it was a
difficult task in that black darkness to follow the course of those two
junks by sound, and keep doggedly at their heels, so as to make sure
they did not escape. And then once more the slow, careful steering was
kept up, Mr Brooke's hand guiding mine from time to time, while now for
the most part we steered to follow the distant whishing sound made by
the wind in the junk's great matting-sails.

All at once, when a strange, drowsy feeling was creeping over me, I was
startled back into wakefulness by Mr Brooke, who said in an angry
whisper--

"Who's that?"

I knew why he spoke, for, though half-asleep the moment before, I was
conscious of a low, guttural snore.

"Can't see, sir," came from one of the men. "Think it's Mr Ching."

"No; Ching never makee nose talk when he s'eep," said the Chinaman, and
as he spoke the sound rose once more.

"Here, hi, messmate, rouse up!" said the man who had before spoken.

"Eh? tumble-up? our watch?" growled Tom Jecks. "How many bells is--"

"Sit up, Jecks," whispered Mr Brooke angrily. "Next man take the
sheet."

There was the rustling sound of men changing their places, and I heard
the coxswain whispering to the others forward.

"No talking," said Mr Brooke; and we glided on again in silence, but
not many yards before a light gleamed out in front.

"Quick, down at the bottom, all of you! Ching, take the tiller!"

We all crouched down; Ching sat up, holding the tiller, and the light
ahead gleamed out brightly, showing the sails and hulls of the two great
junks only fifty yards away, and each towing a big heavy boat. There
were the black silhouettes, too, of figures leaning over the stern, and
a voice hailed us in Chinese, uttering hoarse, strange sounds, to which
Ching replied in his high squeak.

Then the man gave some gruff order, and Ching replied again. The light
died out, and there was silence once more.

"What did he say?" whispered Mr Brooke.

"Say what fo' sail about all in dark?"

"Yes, and you?"

"Tell him hollid big gleat lie! Say, go catchee