In the Yellow Sea. Frith Henry

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СКАЧАТЬ to our starboard beam, and the sea became higher as the tide turned and carried us away from the "dirty cliffs."

      "We shall smile at our fears to-morrow," I said, in an effort to be cheerful which my heart did not respond to.

      Tim Murry made no reply, and we still ran seaward silently. Then I suddenly became dreamy – listless. I did not realise the circumstances, the sea seemed rocking me to sleep. Tim approached and looked at me, took the tiller from me, and I fell into a calm dream of home. I remember it well even now. The whole dream was for me a reality. My stepfather was looking at me, while I appeared to be on board a large ship like a man-of-war. Guns were mounted fore and aft, a number of men were running about, there was some great excitement. Yet I was not on the large vessel long; I was on a steamship next. The large man-of-war attacked us, I could not say how, and the ship I was in sank with a roar of steam and whistling and —

      "Rouse up, sir, look alive! Steamer close aboard of us. She's whistling; she's seen us. I waved to her. Now we must leave this sinking boat."

      I started up. The evening had fallen. The Osprey was half full of water. I had been dreaming of sinking – the reality was very near.

      "Let us shout," I cried. "Say we're sinking, Tim."

      "That's no lie, Mister Jule. The steamer sees us right enough. Will she be in time?"

      "What a time she takes," I muttered. "Somehow I can't believe it all. Is it really true, Tim?"

      "Rather!" replied Tim. "There's the boat launched! Don't you believe the water's up to your boots now? Look at it!"

      I suppose I was still half asleep. I gazed at the swishing sea, and had no fear.

      "All right, I can swim! You said we wouldn't, Tim!"

      "You're nearer sinkin'," he answered. "Dad will never see the home again, arter all. Well, well, it's the Lord's will, that it is."

      It was a sad and painful ending to a boating excursion. But at least we were saved, and going home. How delightful it would be to see mother again, to tell her all my adventures, to confess my temper, and to try to do all she had told me to please Mr. Bentham. Yes, I made up my mind to behave well, and give up the sea – if I must.

      "Step in youngster," said someone.

      My reverie had been suddenly cut short. I looked up, the steamer's boat was alongside.

      "Just in the nick," remarked the officer. "How did you lads get into this pickle o' fish? Lucky we sighted you."

      "Yes," I responded in a sleepy voice. "Is Tim there?"

      "Aye, I'm here," he said.

      "And your father's – body?" I asked. "Bring him out, please."

      "What?" exclaimed the steersman. "A body – a dead body! Not for us. Push off, lads."

      "You won't take it?" I cried. "Won't you bring it ashore?"

      "No time to go ashore, youngster! There, you see, just in time! See! – she's sinking!"

      I looked. The Osprey began to lurch and dip as the men pulled away. I stared in dread suspense, half dead, I fancied. Then we increased our distance. The Osprey lifted and fell, appeared again, disappeared; rose again, and just when one expected to see it once more the sea hid it and bore it out of sight for ever.

      I think I shouted; I know I leaped up in haste, but a firm hand was placed upon my collar, and I sank back unconscious of all around me save the darkness of sea and sky. My senses left me!

      So Murry had gained a sailor's grave. "There in the lone, lone sea – in a spot unmarked but holy," he lies at rest until the last call for "all hands" is piped.

      CHAPTER III

      THE STEAMER FÊNG-SHUI, FOR CHINA – CAPTAIN

      GOLDHEUGH – DISCIPLINE AND A ROPE'S END!

      When I again recovered consciousness I found myself in a comfortable berth, in what appeared an airy cabin on the deck of a vessel. The distant churning noise which attracted my rather wandering attention, and the shaking of the furniture, told me that I was on board a screw steamer. From the cabin windows I perceived a dim light upon the sea. The steamer rolled and plunged and shook herself with great energy, and at times the lamp hung, apparently, quite sideways across the room. As I continued to gaze rather listlessly about me, my eyes fastened themselves upon two words, of which I could make no sense nor meaning. These were painted upon a locker in golden characters, above some peculiar characters, and read —

FÊNG-SHUI

      What was Fêng-Shui? I had never heard of it. I puzzled over it. Was it a name, a motto, or a spell of some kind? It seemed to my still obscured brain "neither fish nor fowl nor good red herring," and the painted characters beneath the words looked even funnier than those upon a tea-chest. FÊNG-SHUI!

      The letters burned into my brain; they kept recurring in a kind of sing-song refrain, and finally adapted themselves to the "Tit-Willow" song in the Mikado. Fêng-Shui, Fêng-Shui, Fêng-Shui! As I lay staring at the locker my mind turned the song anew —

      A poor little sailor-boy lay in a berth,

          Fêng-Shui, Fêng-Shui, Fêng-Shui!

      And never could tell what was meant on this earth

        By Shui, Fêng-Shui, Fêng-Shui!

      And so on, ad infinitum, till my senses reeled again. At length, being almost desperate, I rose, and was in the act of quitting the horrible cabin, when a man in uniform – merchant service – came in.

      "Hallo!" he exclaimed, "what are you up to? Sleep-walking? Get back directly, d'ye hear? Smart now!"

      He aimed a blow at my back, and literally ran me into the swinging cot which I had just vacated.

      "Are ye mad?" he inquired, with a touch of the brogue of northern Ireland – a most amusing accent to my mind – which gave a comic turn to his most serious remarks.

      I made no reply immediately, only by staring.

      "Ah! the boy's off his head! D'ye hear me? Are ye deaf and mad?"

      "No," I replied; "neither, I think."

      "Ye think! Ye're not sure! Then bedad I think ye're mad. What made ye jump out o' bed, then, like a lunatic?"

      "I was wondering where I was, and thinking of those queer letters. I am better now. I was confused when I woke up."

      "Oh, that's better! Sure it was a miracle ye woke at all; we all thought ye dead as Kerry mutton. What's ailing ye?"

      "Nothing, except those queer letters."

      "What! The ship's name, is it? That's nothing but Fêng-Shui, and it's written in Chinese besides."

      "Oh, thank you, I see. I couldn't make it out. What does it mean?"

      "Wind and Weather, and a lot more, in China. Ye'll see in time. Be easy now, I tell ye."

      "In time! What do you mean?" I asked, starting up.

      "What I say. In time! By and by, – when ye get there."

      "Get СКАЧАТЬ