of the Great Fo river, where the prisoners were to be delivered
over to the Chinese authorities.

I had been pretty busy all the morning with Barkins and Smith, going
from one to the other, to sit with them and give them what news I could,
both looking rather glum when I went away, for they were feverish and
fretful from their wounds. But I promised to return soon with news of
the men, who were all together in a cool, well-ventilated part of the
'tween-decks, seeming restful and patient, the doctor having been round,
and, in his short, decisive way, given them a few words of
encouragement.

I saw their faces light up as I went down between the two rows in which
they were laid, and stopped for a chat with those I knew best, about the
way in which they had received their wounds, the coxswain of our boat
being the most talkative.

"They all got it 'bout the same way, sir," he said. "It all comes of
trying to do the beggars a good turn. Who'd ever have thought it, eh,
sir? Trying to save a fellow from drownding, and knives yer!"

They were all very eager to know what was to become of the prisoners,
and upon my telling the poor fellows what I knew, I heard them giving
their opinions to one another in a lying-down debate.

"Seems a pity," said one of the men. "Takes all that there trouble, we
does; captivates 'em; and then, 'stead o' having the right to hang 'em
all decently at the yard-arm, we has to give 'em up to the teapots."

"How are you going to hang 'em decently?" said another voice.

"Reg'lar way, o' course, matey."

"Yah, who's going to do it? British sailors don't want turning into
Jack Ketches."

"'Course not," said a third. "Shooting or cutting a fellow down in fair
fight's one thing; taking prisoners and hanging on 'em arterwards, quite
another pair o' shoes. I says as the skipper's right."

"Hear, hear!" rose in chorus, and it seemed to be pretty generally
agreed that we should be very glad to get rid of the savage brutes.

I was on my way back to where Smith lay, when I encountered the doctor,
who gave me a friendly nod.

"At your service, Mr Herrick," he said, "when you want me; and, by the
way, my lad, your messmate Barkins has got that idea in his head still,
about the poisoned blade. Try and laugh him out of it. Thoughts like
that hinder progress, and it is all nonsense. His is a good, clean,
healthy wound."

He passed on, looking very business-like, and his dresser followed,
wh