with a shot tied to their
heels, if you didn't; so Jones calmed down after a while, and made up
his mind to go to China with us quietly, and make no more fuss about it.

I don't think a man on board wanted to act unkindly to poor Jones; and,
'pon my soul, I'd not have sat by quietly and seen it. But Jones
tempted Providence, as it were, and was the unluckiest beggar alive.

To begin with, I never knew a man so sea-sick that it didn't kill right
off. I never knew a man with more unreliable legs on him; so that there
was no saying where he'd be to a dozen yards or so when he once started.
And he fell overboard twice. So all this made him rather a
laughingstock among the regular hands. But he was so good-natured, and
stood the chaff so good-humouredly, that we got all of us to take a
mighty fancy to his company.

Poking fun upon one subject only he did not take to kindly, and that was
the famous _Jack Brine_ impersonation, which we presently found out,
very much to our surprise, he looked upon as little short of perfection.

"I don't regret this affair altogether," said he, one day. "You see,
all I want is actual experience of the perils of the ocean."

Before long he had them, too.

The reason why we had been required to join in such a hurry was that
several of the foreign sailors had run at the last moment, and there was
a great difficulty in obtaining any Englishmen willing to sail with
them. With the exception of the skipper, we six sailors, and Atlantic
Jones, the rest were all Lascars--savage, sneaking, bloodthirsty
wretches, that there was no trusting a moment out of your sight. I had
never before made a voyage with that kind of company, and, if I can help
it, never will again. However, we felt no particular uneasiness about
them. Any one of us, we simply consoled ourselves by reflecting, could
quite easily thrash half a dozen of the foreign beggars in a fair fight.
The worst of it was, though, when the fight did come, it was not a fair
one.

I began by telling you that I was a bad storyteller; I must finish by
telling you so again. And after all, what story have I left to tell,
which would not be to you, sailors like myself, a thrice-told tale? It
came about, in the usual way, with a night surprise. I woke up with a
man's hand tightening on my throat, with a gleaming knife before my
eyes. Then--thud! thud!--it came down on me, through the thick blankets
I had twisted round me. Lucky for me the