ing sun lighting up her sides and rigging, and brightening the
showy paint and gilding with which she was decorated, so that they had
quite a metallic sheen.

"Take a look back now," said Mr Brooke. "What do you make of the
pirate junks?"

"They seem to be lying-to, sir," I said.

"Then they have seen their plunder, and the sooner we give warning the
better. She must turn and run back at once, or they will be after and
capture her before she can reach port again."

Just then I saw him stand up and give a sharp look round, his face
wearing rather an anxious expression.

"You can't see the _Teaser_, sir?" I said.

"No, my lad; I was looking at the weather. I fear it is going to blow a
hurricane. The sky looks rather wild."

I had been thinking that it looked very beautiful, but I did not say so.
Certainly, though, the wind had risen a little, and I noticed that Tom
Jecks kept on glowering about him in a very keen way.

Just then Mr Brooke shook out the little Union Jack which we had
brought from our sinking boat, and held it ready to signal the coming
junk, which was now only about a mile away, and came swiftly along, till
our leader stood right forward, holding on by a stay, and waved the
little flag.

"Three cheers for the red, white, and blue!" muttered Tom Jecks. "Look
at that now. We in this here little cock-boat just shows our colours,
and that theer great bamboo mountain of a thing goes down on her
marrow-bones to us, metty-phizickly. See that, Mr Herrick, sir?"

"Yes, Tom," I said excitedly; "and it's something to be proud of too."

For, in obedience to our signals, I saw one of the many Chinamen on
board wave his hands as he seemed to be shouting, and the great vessel
slowly and cumbrously rounded to, so that in a few minutes we were able
to run close alongside.

"Tell them to heave us a rope, Ching," said Mr Brooke, and the
interpreter shouted through his hands, with the result that a heavy coil
came crashing down, and was caught by Tom Jecks, who was nearly knocked
overboard.

"We said a rope, not a hawser," growled the man, hauling in the rope.
"Better shy a few anchors down too, you bladder-headed lubbers!"

"Now, say I want to speak to the captain," said Mr Brooke.

A showily-dressed Chinaman leaned over the side of the huge tower of a
poop, and smiled down on us.

"Are you the captain?" cried Mr Brooke, and Ching interpreted.

"Say he the captain," said Ching; "and you please wa