as a shield under the skylight.

The pirates made a rush after us, but we were too quick for them; so
then, leaving us alone for awhile, they proceeded to rummage the ship
forward, where, from the noise they made hacking and hewing at the deck,
they were evidently trying to break open the hold so as to get at the
cargo. But the hatchways being constructed of iron beneath the wood
their battering away at them did not bother us much for the moment, as
we knew they would find their work cut out for them and the job a long
one.

Meanwhile, poor Mr Saunders lay dying on the cabin floor, bleeding from
a wound in his breast. The captain said there was no hope for him, for
he had been shot through the lungs; and as I bent over him with a glass
of water I had got from the pantry, he murmured something that sounded
like Ching Wang.

"By Jove!" exclaimed Mr Mackay. "Where is the Chinaman?"

Nobody knew; and although Mr Saunders had been the first to miss him,
he could not say anything else about him, or tell us what had become of
the poor fellow. We were all, therefore, giving him up for lost, when,
suddenly Pedro Carvalho, who, it may be remembered, bore no friendly
feeling towards the cook, called out from the pantry window whence,
through the jalousies, or open shutters, he could survey a portion of
the main-deck.

"Diante de Deos!" he exclaimed, "dere is dat raskil Ching Wang yondare,
chummy chumming and chin chinning does peerats. Yase, yase, dere he is!
I see him! I see him! Carajo! Cozenheiro maldito!"

This news came upon us like a thunderbolt, but none of us would believe
it until we had been absolutely convinced of the truth of what the
steward had stated by seeing for ourselves. Yet, there was no mistake;
for sure enough we could presently see with our own eyes, Ching Wang on
the friendliest terms, apparently, with a lot of the yellow pirate
rascals, who were of his own celestial nationality, away forward, the
cook showing them all that was to be seen and grinning and gesticulating
away finely!

Still, even then we could hardly believe in his treachery.

Somehow or other, too, whether through Ching Wang's offices or not, of
course, we could not say, the pirates did not bother us much during the
day, only coming up to the skylight occasionally and firing down on us
as well as they could with their clumsy muskets and pistols--a fire
which we just as promptly returned, aiming wherever we saw a flash.
Th