A Chinese Command: A Story of Adventure in Eastern Seas

  CHAPTER TWO.

  EASTWARD HO!

  So soundly and dreamlessly did Frobisher sleep that he did not wakeuntil the clear notes of the dressing bugle--a solemn farce which Dickinsisted upon his servant performing when ashore--had almost finishedringing through the little cottage.

  Punctually at 8 a.m. the old marine who acted as Dick's servant when hewas ashore, and as general housekeeper and caretaker when he was afloat,sounded the bugle as a signal to his master that it was time to turnout; and the neighbours in the houses round about--who, by the way,referred to Penryn as "that very eccentric young man"--had come to lookupon the instrument somewhat in the light of a town clock; so much sothat several of them set their watches by it, and one old gentleman wasin the habit of leaving his front door and sprinting for theeight-fifteen train to town punctually upon the first note.

  Frobisher sat up in bed with a yawn, and was half-way to the bath-roombefore he was sufficiently wideawake to recollect that this morning wasdifferent from the three hundred and sixty-five odd preceding mornings.But as he remembered that at last he had secured the offer of regularand profitable employment--although not quite along the lines he hadhoped for--he let out a whoop of rejoicing that made the cottage ring.

  Having completed his toilet, Frobisher came downstairs whistling, tofind Penryn standing in front of the fire, warming his coat tails andsniffing hungrily, while from the direction of the kitchen came certainsavoury smells.

  "'Morning, Murray!"

  "'Morning, Dick!" was the response. "What's for breakfast thismorning?"

  "Don't know," answered his friend, "but it smells like eggs and bacon,and steak and mushrooms, and chops and kidneys on toast. I hope so, atany rate, for I'm hungry this morning, and feel quite ready for asnack."

  "Snack!" laughed Frobisher. "Is what you have just mentioned your ideaof a snack? It sounds to me more like the menu of an aldermanicbanquet. By the way, I didn't know the parcel-postman had arrived yet;he's early, isn't he?"

  "Oh," replied Dick, turning rather red, "I thought I'd put that away.No, the postman hasn't been. That's just something I went out for,early this morning, for--oh--for a friend of mine."

  "Sorry, old man," said Murray, "I didn't mean to be inquisitive. By theway, is there a train to town somewhere about nine or half-past? Ishould like to catch it if there is."

  "One at nine twenty-three," answered Dick. "You'll catch it easily.And now, here's Tom with the breakfast; bring yourself to an anchor, andlet's begin. I'm as hungry as a hunter. How about yourself?"

  "Rather better than usual this morning," laughed Frobisher. "A littlehope is a splendid thing for giving one an appetite." And with thisremark both the young men fell to with a will.

  The meal finished, Frobisher hurried off to catch his train; travelledup to London; crossed the city; and took another train down to thedocks. Arrived there, he enquired the whereabouts of the steamer_Quernmore_.

  "Over there, sir," a policeman told him, pointing to a spot about twohundred yards distant; and thither the young man made his way, haltingpresently at the shore end of a gangway leading on to the steamer, totake a good look at the craft that was to be his floating home for solong a period.

  Certainly, he told himself, if one might judge by appearances, CaptainDrake had ample justification for being proud of his steamer; for shewas as pretty a model of a craft as Frobisher, for all his longexperience, had ever set eyes on. Indeed, one would almost have beenexcused for assuming that, but for her size, she might have been aprivate yacht at some period of her existence. Flush-decked, with agraceful curving run, a clipper bow with gilt figure-head, and a long,overhanging counter, the hull painted a particularly pleasing shade ofdark green down to within a couple of feet of the water-line, andpolished black below that, she made a picture completely satisfying tothe eye of the most exacting critic. She was rigged as a topsailschooner, and her funnel was tall, oval-shaped, and cream-coloured.Indeed, anything less like the traditional tramp steamer, and moreresembling a gentleman's yacht, it would have been difficult to find.

  By the look of her, too, thought Frobisher, she should be able to show apretty fair turn of speed, if she were put to it--sixteen knots at theleast, the young lieutenant judged--and the idea occurred to him thatpossibly, some time in the future, the lives of her crew might dependupon those few extra knots of which she appeared capable.

  However, it would not do to stand there admiring the ship. "Businessbefore pleasure," the young man reminded himself; and, involuntarilystraightening himself up as though about to board a man-of-war,Frobisher marched across the gangway, and asked the first seaman he metwhether Captain Drake was aboard.

  "He's in the chart-house at this moment, sir," answered the man; "I'lltake you to him." And a minute later Frobisher found himself duckinghis head in order to get in through the low chart-house door-way.

  "Hillo! it's you already, is it?" exclaimed Drake, looking up from achart over which he was poring. "I didn't expect to see you until thisafternoon. Sit down and make yourself comfortable. I hope you've cometo tell me that we are to be shipmates for this cruise," he added,eagerly. "If I can't persuade you to come in with me, I shall beobliged to sail shorthanded, for I've no time to do any more lookinground now."

  "Then you can make your mind easy," laughed Frobisher. "To tell you thesimple truth, I believe I had practically made up my mind to sail withyou before I said good-bye to you yesterday. Yes, I'm coming, skipper;and I hope, for both our sakes, that the voyage will turn out assuccessfully as you desire."

  "Good man!" heartily ejaculated the skipper, thrusting out his hand."That's the best news I've heard for a long while. Now, where's yourdunnage? I'll show you your room, and you can settle down right away."

  "My dunnage isn't down yet, skipper," replied Frobisher, smiling. "Icame down just to tell you what I had decided, intending to go back andfetch my traps this afternoon."

  Drake looked rather blank at hearing this. "That's a pity," heremarked, thoughtfully, half to himself. Then, addressing Frobisher:"Well, trot away back, and get them down here as quickly as you can,will ye? Certain events have happened since I saw you yesterday thatmake me anxious to leave at the very earliest moment possible, and I'vealready made arrangements to clear directly after I had seen you thisafternoon."

  "I'll be off at once, skipper," returned Frobisher, "and be back againnot later than one o'clock." And the young man darted out of thechart-house, across the gangway, and out of the dock premises like asprinter, leaving Drake staring open-mouthed after him.

  "He certainly can take a hint quicker than any man I've ever met," saidthat worthy, as he resumed the study of his chart.

  Two hours later Frobisher was back in Kingston, had packed hisbelongings, and was saying good-bye to his old friend, Dick Penryn.

  Neither of the men felt very happy at parting, and both, after themanner of their kind, tried to conceal their real feelings by anexaggerated show of indifference. Thus it was that their farewells werebrief, almost to curtness, and to the point; and it was only asFrobisher was actually on the door-step that Dick pushed into hisfriend's hands a parcel--the same parcel that had caught Frobisher's eyethat morning. It was heavy, and the recipient could not guess, evenremotely, as to its contents; but he thanked Dick heartily, tucked thepackage under his arm, and got into the cab which had been sent for.

  One last firm hand-grip, two rather husky good-byes, now that the actualmoment for parting had come, and the pair were separated--one bound forthe far, mysterious East, the other to return in a few days to the shiphe had come to look upon as his real home.

  It was with a few minutes in hand that Frobisher leapt out of his cab atthe dock gates, and collected his few belongings. He paid the cabby,and, with his customary swiftness of movement, turned and started totrot quickly through the gates towards the _Quernmore_; but as he didso, he collided violently with another man, causing him to sit downsuddenly on the hard cobbles, while Frobisher h
imself dropped one of hisportmanteaux.

  The fat policeman on duty at the entrance chuckled loudly; Frobisherlaughed and picked up his bag, as he murmured an apology; but the victimon the cobbles appeared to be saying unpleasant things venomously insome language quite unfamiliar to the young lieutenant--who knew a goodmany--and this caused him to pause an instant and look at the man.

  He was a brown, or rather, yellow man; and for a moment Frobisher tookhim for a Chinaman. But a second glance convinced the latter that hedid not belong to that nation, nor to the Japanese, although he wasundoubtedly of Eastern extraction.

  Murray had no time to waste in conjectures, however, and with a heartyEnglish "Sorry, old man!" he proceeded to the _Quernmore_, where Drakehimself conducted him to his state-room.

  Frobisher would have left his unpacking until the evening, and gone onduty at once; but Drake informed him that there was no need. All thecargo was aboard; the crew--specially selected men--were all in theforecastle; and there was nothing to be done until three o'clock, whenDrake would get his papers, and the tug would arrive to help him out ofthe dock. Frobisher therefore unpacked and stowed his things away;afterwards getting into his first-officer's uniform, which had beenhastily adapted from his own old Navy outfit by the removal of theshoulder-straps and the "executive curl" from the gold stripes on thesleeves. He then proceeded to examine the parcel placed in his hands byDick Penryn.

  Removing the brown paper, he found a square, polished mahogany box,fastened by two hooks as well as by a lock and key; and, upon openingthe lid, he gave a cry of pleasure and surprise.

  Inside were a pair of most business-like large-calibre, blued revolvers,carrying the heavy .450 cartridge--serviceable weapons indeed, capableof dropping a man in his tracks at a distance of a hundred yards. Inaddition to the weapons themselves, there was a cavity beneath the trayin which they rested, fitted up to contain exactly one hundred rounds ofammunition, and it was this--deadly-looking, blunt-nosed bullets inbrass cartridge-cases--that had made the parcel so heavy. With his eyessnapping with gratification, Frobisher locked away the case in a drawer,and went out on deck to find Drake.

  As he emerged from the companion-way, he saw that the tug was alreadyalongside; and he immediately ran up on to the bridge, so as to be readyto carry out any orders that Drake might have for him. But it appearedthat the skipper intended to work his ship out of dock entirely with hisown hands, so Frobisher had a few minutes in which to look round him andtake in, for the last time for several months at any rate, the intimatesights around him.

  The _Quernmore_ was now slowly passing out between the pierheads, andFrobisher was keeping a sharp look-out to see that none of the crewattempted a "pierhead jump", when he happened to catch sight of his lateacquaintance of the collision. The man was standing at the extreme endof the pier, leaning against a bollard, and observing the _Quernmore_and her crew with a scrutiny so close as to be a little suspicious; andMurray half-turned to point him out to Drake.

  He need not have troubled to do so, however, for he at once perceivedthat the skipper was already aware of the man's presence. If looks wentfor anything, too, Drake was intensely annoyed; and the thought at onceoccurred to Frobisher that the presence of this yellow man mightpossibly have had something to do with Drake's sudden resolution toleave during the early afternoon. He said nothing, however, at themoment, but continued to stare at the Easterner as long as he could seehim clearly, in order to impress the man's appearance and featuresindelibly on his memory. For a presentiment had just seized him thatthis man was in some strange way bound up with his own fate, and thatthey were destined to meet again under far different circumstances fromthose under which they had come together, shortly before, at the dockgates.

  He had not much time or opportunity, however, to dwell at length uponsuch matters; for a quarter of an hour later the tug had cast off, thepilot had taken charge, and the _Quernmore_, under her own steam, wasproceeding rapidly down the winding, traffic-laden river.

  They were passing Gravesend when Drake suddenly turned to Frobisher andremarked:

  "I say, Mr Frobisher, did you happen to notice a yellow-skinned chapstanding on the pierhead as we left the dock?"

  "Why, yes," replied Frobisher. "That was the second time I'd seen him.The first time I cannoned into him at the dock gates as I was comingaboard, and sent him spinning. You should have heard the remarks hemade--though I didn't understand a word he said, but guessed what theymeant by his expression. I believe, if it hadn't been for the bobby atthe gate, the fellow would have tried to knife me, although my runninghim down was quite an accident. I saw his hand fly to his waist-belt,but I didn't stay to argue with him. I didn't like the looks of thefellow a little bit, and I have a sort of presentiment that we have notseen the last of him. He seemed to be taking quite a lot of interest inthe _Quernmore_. Of what nationality do you suppose him to be?"

  "That man," answered Drake, "has caused me a heap of anxiety. Eversince we started loading our cargo, he has been on the watch every dayand all day. I'll wager he counted every chest and case that we tookaboard; and I feel convinced in my own mind that he is a Korean spy. Ifso, we may be in for a lot of trouble when we arrive out there; for hecan easily cable, or even get there before us by catching a fastmail-boat. I tell you candidly that I am not very comfortable about thebusiness; and I shall be glad to get out of English waters, too, for Iam not quite as clear as I should like to be concerning the law, in itsbearing on cases of this sort. I fancy that the British Government hasthe power to stop or delay us, if our Korean friend chooses to representin the proper quarters that I am carrying arms to rebels arrayed againsttheir lawful sovereign."

  "If the news should by any means leak out," said Frobisher, "I thinkthere's no doubt that you will be delayed, if not stopped altogether;for England does not want a quarrel on her hands with anybody just now,however insignificant they may be. So we had better keep our weathereyes lifting, and be prepared for all eventualities."

  By the time they cleared the mouth of the river and dropped the pilot,however, darkness had long since fallen; and Drake hoped that with thedawn of the morrow he would be far enough down the Channel to be clearof any danger of recall or overhauling.

  To this end he shaped a course that would carry him well over toward theFrench coast, determining to run down on that side of the Channel and soavoid, if possible, any prowling English cruisers. And it was well forhim that he did so; for on the following morning, happening to take aglance astern through the glass, Frobisher caught sight, about eightmiles distant, of a small gunboat coming along in their wake attop-speed, and flying a signal of some sort which the ex-naval officershrewdly suspected to be a summons to heave-to, though the craft was toofar away for the signal to be plainly read.

  He at once informed Drake, who promptly went down to the engine-room andgave the chief engineer a few private instructions, with the resultthat, presently, dense volumes of smoke began to pour out of the_Quernmore's_ funnel, and her speed quickened up until Frobisher judgedher to be doing quite sixteen knots. Then he and Drake took turns atwatching the war-ship astern, when it soon became evident that, even ifshe was not increasing the distance, the _Quernmore_ was at leastholding her own.

  That this was apparent to the commander of the gunboat was demonstratedshortly afterwards, when a puff of white smoke broke out from her bows,and the distant boom of a gun floated down to them.

  "I feared as much," exclaimed Drake, uneasily; "but I believe we shallget clear unless that fellow's firing brings a cruiser out from Plymouthto stop us. But,"--brightening up a little--"I fancy we are too farover toward the French side for anything of that sort; so, if we canonly keep ahead, I think we shall pull out safely."

  The gunboat continued firing, and after a time began to send solid shotafter the flying _Quernmore_, as a stronger hint to heave-to; but herguns were not powerful enough for the range, and the shot droppedharmlessly into the water far away astern. She was still in sight
whendarkness fell, but had lost ground badly during the day; and when thefollowing morning dawned she was out of sight below the horizon.

  This was the only attempt made to stop Drake in English waters; and hewas shortly afterward safely in the Bay of Biscay.

  There is no need to describe in detail the voyage to the East, since itwas entirely uneventful. They stopped at Port Said to coal; coaledagain at Colombo and Hongkong; and then headed straight for the Koreancoast, neither Drake nor Frobisher having taken particular notice of theP&O liner that had left England the day after themselves, and steamedout of Colombo harbour just as the _Quernmore_ was entering it. Neitherdid they observe the fashionably-dressed, yellow-skinned gentleman onboard the liner who treated them to such a close scrutiny through a pairof field-glasses. They had, for the moment, forgotten all about theirKorean friend of the docks; and, in any case, would hardly have expectedto find him on the first-class promenade deck of a crack ocean liner.

  It was just two months after leaving London when, late one afternoon,Drake pointed ahead, to the north, indicating what at first sightappeared to be a belt of cloud right down upon the horizon.

  "Ah!" remarked Frobisher, following the direction of the skipper'soutstretched finger; "we are nearly at our destination. That's QuelpartIsland, I take it. We ought to anchor off Fusan, then, about this timeto-morrow, eh, skipper?"

  Drake turned and regarded his officer solemnly. Then he slowly loweredhis right eyelid.

  "We shall pass Fusan about that time, Mr Frobisher," he said; "but wedo not stop there. Fusan is our port, according to the ship's papers, Ihappen to remember; but our actual destination is a small harbour abouttwo hundred miles north of that. We should never be able to get ourcargo unloaded at Fusan, much less into the rebels' hands. Sam-riek isour goal--quite a small unimportant place, right on the coast. There'sgood, sheltered anchorage there; and, if we have the luck we deserve, weshall be able to unload the stuff without fear of interruption."

  "Ah!" remarked Frobisher, and relapsed into deep thought.

  On the evening of the second day following, the _Quernmore_ was close inunder the land; and, just as the sun was setting behind the Koreanhills, the anchor plashed down from the bows, and the voyage was at anend. The _Quernmore_ had reached her destination, done her part; andnow it was for Murray Frobisher to carry out the other half of Drake'scontract, and place the cargo in the hands of the rebels, at a spot aweek's journey or more up-country. Would he, or would he not, be ableto do this; and, more important still, from his own personal point ofview, would he be able to get back to the ship with a whole skin? Timealone would show.