The ship remained at Hong-Kong for a few weeks, during which time Mr. Thompson, the acting boatswain, had plenty of opportunity to go on shore; but with his promotion all that beautiful simplicity of impudence, for which he was, when a seaman, distinguished, vanished, and although he knew full well the Mackays expected him to call upon them, it was not until he received the following invite that he summoned enough courage to face his good friends.

    "Chy-loon Villa.

    "Dear Mr. Thompson,

    "We have expected you would call upon us ever since your ship has been in harbour. As we know you would prefer not meeting strangers, we beg you will dine with us alone on Friday at 8 o\'clock.

    "Ever your sincere friend,
    "Walter Mackay."

To which Jerry replied,

    "H. M. S. Stinger.

    "My Dear Friends,

    "I am very much obliged to you, and will be there punctual.

    "Your obedient friend,
    "J. Thompson.

    "P. S. I hope none of the officers will drop in."

Having dispatched the foregoing, the acting boatswain sought the advice of a friendly midshipman as to costume and deportment, and upon the appointed evening proceeded to make the call, about which he felt very nervous. When he arrived at the place he was met by Mr. Mackay, who was waiting in the verandah to welcome him. Jerry seated himself in a rocking-chair, but looked so uncomfortable, that his friend inquired if he were unwell. Upon which Thompson got up, and beckoning his host into a small reception-room, gravely asked him if he thought he would do.

"My dear fellow, what do you mean?"

"Well, am I all square? Rigging all right?"

Mr. Mackay could scarcely preserve the gravity of his countenance, but after a short pause he replied,

"Why, you look, very nice indeed, Thompson. What makes you ask me such a question?"

"Why," said the acting boatswain in a whisper, and getting more mysterious than ever, "he said I warn\'t all square, and I don\'t want to pay Miss Moore such a ill compliment as to come to dine with you and not be all right, you know."

"Oh, you\'re splendid. Why, you look as handsome as a post-captain."

Thus assured, Jerry became more easy in his manner, but he was terribly put out[Pg 169] when, upon Mrs. Mackay making her appearance, he found her accompanied by a dark-eyed girl, who was just as affable towards him as his hostess; and when the dinner-gong sounded he actually started, thinking he would have to escort the young lady into the dining-room; but to his relief Mrs. Mackay held out her arm, which the sailor took, and thus reversing the order of things, walked solemnly from the apartment.

The dinner passed off without any mishap, as Thompson had seen enough life to keep him all right at table, while his natural gallantry and devotion to the fair sex caused him to show all proper attention to the dark-eyed young lady seated by his side. When the ladies had withdrawn, his kind host lit a cigar, having in vain tried to induce his guest to do the same, and after a little chat asked him what he thought of the young lady.

"She\'s a real fine lady, but I\'m afraid of her."

"Nonsense, Thompson. Why?"

"Well, she\'s got a sort of a half-laughing sort of way, as much as to say she thinks I\'m a poor sort of a imitation of a reg\'ler warrant-officer, and she sees through it."

"Chut, chut; let us join the ladies."

Jerry entered the drawing-room upon tip-toe, as the dark-eyed one was playing the piano, and having taken his seat on the chair furthest from the instrument, fixed his eyes upon her, and watched the motion of her fingers in a curiously anxious manner. When she had finished she turned to him and exclaimed, "Can you sing, Mr. Thompson?"

"Me, miss?"

"Surely you can. Don\'t you know one song?"

"No, miss. Not what you\'d call songs."

"Not a sea-song?"

"Well, I know \'The Gal I left behind me,\' and \'Hearts of Oak,\' and \'Tom Bowline,\' and—"

"Oh, do sing \'Tom Bowline,\' Mr. Thompson."

After much persuasion Jerry got over his bashfulness; then, in a full mellow voice, sang that fine old sea-song, and ere the last verse was completed he heard the ladies sobbing as if their hearts would break. When he had finished, the younger lady wiped her eyes, and looked at him with the greatest admiration. He was no longer the bashful-awkward sailor, but a man of genuine tenderness of heart, and she began fully to understand how it was that her friends thought so highly of him. As he sang his voice seemed filled with pity for some lost shipmate, and it would have been an unsympathetic ear upon which such a song fell without calling forth some pitying response; and the young lady, though not intending to do so, looked at the acting boatswain in such a manner, that a much less susceptible person would have easily understood her meaning.

Jerry began to feel uncomfortable. I wish she wouldn\'t stare at me so, he thought. I\'ll ask her to sing.

"Please, miss, as it\'s my call, may I be so bold as to ask you to sing?"

"What song would you like, Mr. Thompson? I am almost ashamed to sing after you."

"Anything, miss; they are all pretty."

Not without a touch of mischief in her voice, the dark-eyed one sang "Love not." Now, had she wished to captivate the sailor she could not have chosen a more inappropriate song. When she commenced Thompson was all attention, but at the words
"Love flings a halo round the fair one\'s head,"

[Pg 170]

the poor fellow got up, and walked into the verandah, where he sobbed like a child. A-tae, the truest love in the world, the heart which once so fondly beat for him, now stilled in death—the beautiful lips which, when parted with a smile for him, seemed like an angel\'s; the stars which shone down upon him then, were shining upon her silent grave, and he should never see her again. All this flashed across his mind, and, sailor as he was, he wept. However, after a few moments he recovered, and crept quietly into the room, his friends pretending not to have noticed his absence. Mrs. Mackay sang several songs, and played some animated airs upon the piano, which, with a little brandy pawnee, somewhat enlivened the sailor. About eleven o\'clock the dark-eyed one went home, and his hostess wishing to have a little conversation with him, begged he would not hurry his departure, as they did not generally retire until a late hour.

The young lady gone, Thompson threw off his bashfulness, and was once more the merry fellow of old, but he cautiously avoided expressing any opinion about the dark-eyed visitor.

"Do you know who she is, Mr. Thompson?"

"No, miss."

"She is our new governess of the native girls\' school; and, I think, would make you an excellent wife."

"Me, miss? Me marry? No, no. I\'ll keep single. I ain\'t a marrying man."

"But she was very much interested with your song, and I noticed you were with hers. Take care, Mr. Thompson; take care."

"Bless your heart, miss, you don\'t know human nature as I do. Why, if every young woman that I have sung that song to, and who has cried over it, had been sentimentyle over me, I should have been prosecuted for breach of promise years ago. It\'s only for a moment—they feels sorry for poor Tom Bowline. He\'s gone aloft, they thinks, and his widder is a-crying about him—probable his half-pay note stopped, and no pension, and her little children going into the werkus. But it\'s soon all over, and then they are ready for another song of a similar sentimentyle specee, at which they cries, just as they would smile at a comic song, bless their little hearts all on \'em, miss."

"Thompson, you only talk like that to deceive me as to the real state of your feelings. You don\'t mean what you say."

"Indeed, miss, but I does. I\'ve a lonely widowed mother at home, and I intend devoting the remainder of a rather precarious existence to her. I am going to die a bachelor, and I think it\'s just as well for any one in my situation."

Mrs. Mackay laughed, and when she bade him good-bye, said, "We hear the Stinger is going home as soon as Canton is taken. You will let us know when your happy event takes place, will you not, and send us a description of the bride?"

Jerry shook his head and replied in a mournful sort of way, "Miss, if ever you hears of such a melancholy episode, you may rest assured that I am somebody\'s victim, not a convict by my own free will."

A few days after the foregoing occurrence, the Stinger was despatched to the Canton River, where Captain Woodward was directed to take possession of a small fortified island called Yin-sin, situated about ten miles below the Barriers; and, to hold himself in readiness to receive, pay for, and take care of all live stock which could be collected by a party of contractors, who had volunteered to obtain any quantity of cattle the government required, provided the authorities would assist them, and place a war-ship off Yin-sin Fort, to which they could retreat when pursued by the Imperial row boats. As the contractors could not speak a word of English, Hoo-kee, the old pilot, was sent on board to act as interpreter.

[Pg 171]

Having cleared out and whitewashed the fort, the ship\'s company were employed in building sheds upon a level piece of ground near the lower end of the island, and in a few days they put up accommodations for over five hundred head of cattle, besides a house for the Chinese contractors; then having thrown up an embankment round the island, which they further protected by palisades driven near the water\'s edge, Woodward directed Lieutenant Russell to take command of the fort, assisted by the acting boatswain, a gunner\'s mate, and a garrison of thirty-five seamen.

In a few nights the contractors began to receive bullocks from all parts of the river, and the supply seemed unlimited; but after several lots had been despatched to Hong-Kong, the number brought decreased, and at length only one or two would be forthcoming, and these were very ordinary beasts indeed. Upon the pilot being questioned, he informed them that "Comprador no can catchee peecee Boolaky, him all lib topside river," or, in other words, the supply was exhausted about Yin-sin Fort, and they would have to go further up the river. Woodward did not like to leave the cattle to the sole guard of the garrison, so he concluded to wait for a few days, when he could obtain a gun-boat to assist the contractors, preferring that course to risking the safety of his men.

It was well that he did so, for one night as he was quietly anchored ahead of the island, the man upon the look-out on the port side of the forecastle suddenly announced that a big craft was dropping down upon them, and before they could get up anchor two immense junks filled with brushwood, pitch, oil, and other combustibles, were cleverly floated across the Stinger\'s bows, and in an instant the fore part of the ship was enveloped in flame. Woodward knowing the probability of such an attack, had an anchor fastened to the jib-boom in such a manner that in case a fire-ship got across his bows, it might be dropped on board the burning craft, then slipping his own bower to the chain of which this suspended anchor was attached, he would be able to drop quite clear of the fire-ship, which being left anchored to his late moorings, would burn itself out, while he was hove off at a short distance.

This was all very nice in theory, but the fire-junks were floated down so silently, that no one saw them until they were almost fast to the bows. When the officer of the watch ordered the suspended anchor to be cut adrift, it was found to be foul and would not start, and Woodward getting on deck, saw at a glance that the ship would be lost if no one could manage to cut the obstruction to their only means of safety. However, he did not show what he felt, but gave his orders in a cool and deliberate manner.

"Pay out the cable, and stand by to slip the anchor."

"Aye, aye, sir," replied the boatswain\'s mate of the watch.

The fire-junks hung for a few moments upon his bows, but being slack water, did not drop upon her; and the Stinger having steam up, "went astern" slowly, leaving the Chinese engines of destruction moored by the lines by which they had been towed down upon the man-of-war. As the ship receded from their fiery contact the flames ran along her bowsprit and caught the bulwarks, but a well-directed stream of water from her pumps soon extinguished that, and the further burning of the bowsprit and projecting spars was prevented.

The Chinese who were managing the attack seeing the Stinger move from her anchorage slacked their tow-lines, and Woodward saw the junks were coming down upon him again.

"Who\'ll volunteer to cut away that spare anchor when the junks are again under the bows?"

[Pg 172]

"I will, sir," cried Tom Clare, who, dressed in a blanket frock and trousers, looked more like an Esquimaux than a sailor. "The fire won\'t hurt this rig."

"Up you get, then; the fire won\'t touch you if you\'re smart, as the wind has fallen, and is drawing aft. The tricing line has fouled just abaft the foretopmast stay. Don\'t cut until I give the order."

Luckily the stays were made of corrugated iron wire, and Clare knew if he could feel those he was safe, even though the smoke blinded him. He was determined to save the ship; and, axe in hand, mounted the head grating, and running out upon the bowsprit, calmly waited for the fire-junks to drop down near enough for the anchor to plump aboard them. As he stood there, with the red gleam of the burning junks showing every line in his face, he looked the handsome Tom Clare of former days; and knowing how perilous his position was, many of the crew wished almost any other man of their number there instead of him.

"They\'re coming, Clare. Stand by, and let them get close enough. I\'ll give you orders when to cut."

"Aye, aye, sir," quietly replied Tom.

Down dropped the burning craft towards the ship, every now and then sending a volume of smoke into the sky, as some store of combustible exploded on board them, flaming like furnace tops, with their entire length an unbroken mass of roaring, singing fire. Tom felt the glare upon his face, and found a difficulty in breathing. Nearer and nearer they approached, until the flying jib-boom was again on fire, and he began to experience the sensation of burning whiskers and singed eyebrows and face. But as no order came, he waited.

"Cut away!"

Steadying himself upon the bowsprit, which was now enveloped in flame, the gallant fellow gave one smart cut. The obstruction was severed, and the anchor dropped crashing on board the starboard fire-junk. In an instant the chain cable was slipped on board, and the Stinger tore astern at full speed. When they got clear of the burning masses Woodward enquired for Clare, but no one had noticed him come in, and the commander feared he had fallen a victim to ............