Chapter II Helston Receives a Strange Letter
Helston’s Bad Luck—Ping Sang tells of Pirates—Ping Sang makes an Offer—Helston Jubilant
In the year 1896 two naval officers were living a somewhat humdrum, monotonous existence in the quiet little Hampshire village of Fareham, which nestles under the fort-crowned Portsdown Hills, and is almost within earshot of the ceaseless clatter of riveting and hammering in the mighty dockyards of Portsmouth.
These two men had both served many years before in the small gun-boat Porcupine out in China, and their many escapades and adventures had frequently drawn down on their heads the wrath of the Admiral commanding that station. Wherever the Porcupine went, trouble of some sort or another was sure to follow. At one place an indignant Taotai1 complained that all the guns—obsolete old muzzle-loaders—in his fort had been tumbled into the ditch one night; at another they only just escaped with their lives from an infuriated mob whilst actually carrying from the temple a highly grotesque, but still more highly revered, joss, at which desecration they had cajoled and bribed the local priests to wink.
Comrades in every adventure, and mess-mates during these four exciting years, they had ultimately drifted together on half-pay, and, with their old marine servant Jenkins, a taciturn old man, to look after them, had settled down in this village.
Both men were below the age of forty, though a more accurate estimate would have been difficult, for the shorter of the two bore himself with the vigour and alertness of thirty, yet his face was old with the lines and furrows of care and sadness, whilst the tall, gaunt figure of the second was not held so erect, nor were his actions so vigorous, yet the youthful fire in his eyes gave to his sea-tanned face and his thin, tight-drawn lips and prominent jaw the appearance of a man who had not yet reached the zenith of his manhood.
The shorter man was named Fox, a doctor, who had left the service when he married, only to lose his wife a year later, and with her his whole joy of existence. Settling down in this village, near her grave, he had worked up a small practice, which occupied but little of his time, and lived a life from which his great grief seemed to have removed any trace of his former ambition.
Not so the taller man, Helston, a commander, who had been invalided and placed on half-pay, suffering from the effects of fevers picked up whilst cruising off the West Coast of Africa, in China, and in the Mediterranean. Though his body was weakened by disease, he was for ever buoyant at the prospects of being restored to health and full-pay, and dreamed eagerly of the time when once more he could go afloat and eventually command his own ship.
He, however, generally found a most unsympathetic audience in the Doctor, who listened, with ill-concealed boredom, to his rose-coloured plans, and cynically would say, “Who goes to sea for enjoyment would go to jail for a pastime. Take my advice and get a snug billet in the coast-guard, and don’t bother the sea any more. It’s not done you much good.”
“It’s all my bad luck, Doc, old chap,” Helston would answer; “no fault of the sea. I played the idiot when I was a youngster, was always in disgrace up at the Admiralty, and now, with this rotten fever in me, they won’t employ me again.”
But he would always finish with, “Well, I’ve waited patiently enough for the last three years, and luck must turn soon”.
On one such occasion, when the warmth and brightness of a May day had made Helston more than usually enthusiastic as to his chances of full-pay service, Dr. Fox, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, growled, “Next ship, indeed! You talk of nothing but ships and sea, sea and ships, when you ought to be buying a Bath chair to be wheeled about in.”
“Never mind, old chap, I’m not as bad as that, and I’ll bet you that they give me a ship in less than six months!”
“If they do, I will come with you,” jeered the Doctor, as he stalked moodily to bed.
“That’s a bargain,” shouted Helston cheerfully after him.
Now one reason why Helston had settled down here with the Doctor, and the great source of his ambitious dreams, was a certain lady named Milly, who, with her father—his name is not necessary, for he was always spoken of as “the Admiral”, or “Miss Milly’s father”—lived close to the village. He had wooed her constantly for many years, and had known her since she was born, but the somewhat disdainful little lady had refused him many times, though not without giving him some slight hope of better success if ever he were promoted to the rank of captain. However, as Mistress Milly never personally enters this story, nothing more need be said of her than that she was one of the most bewitching little flirts who ever tyrannized over an old father, or played havoc with the heart of every man she met.
A few weeks after this incident, and whilst the two were at breakfast, the old village postman stumbled up the path leading to their house, and Jenkins, a sombre, morose man of few words, brought in a big official envelope.
“What did I say, old chap?” cried Helston excitedly, tearing it open. “Didn’t I say my luck would change? Hullo! this isn’t an ordinary appointment. Whatever is it?” A large number of papers fell on the table, and, the Doctor showing some signs of interest, the two men hurriedly examined them, Jenkins standing behind at attention in order to learn the news.
The first one was from the Admiralty, informing Helston that the enclosures had been received through the Chinese Embassy, and ordering him to report himself at Whitehall immediately. These enclosures were lists of ships supposed to be wrecked on the Chinese coast during the last few years, lists of Chinese men-of-war supposed to have been destroyed during the Chino-Japanese war, and papers showing the gradual rise in insurance rates for the Chinese coasting trade.
“Where’s your appointment?” sneered the Doctor. “I’m off to see my patients.”
“I’ve got it, Doc; look here! Do you remember that old mandarin we got out of a scrape at Cheefoo once? Well, here’s a letter from him. Listen!” Saying which, Helston sat on the table and read it aloud, whilst the Doctor filled his pipe impatiently:—
“DEAR COMMANDER HELSTON,—Perhaps you remember saving my life at Cheefoo many years ago? Now perhaps I can do you a good turn.
“For the last three or four years there has been a very large number of steamers, ships, and junks employed on the coast trade which have left port under favourable circumstances and apparently in good condition, yet have never been heard of since. The number has rapidly become so great, that myself and several friends interested in the shipping trade have suspected that these disappearances were not due to natural causes. This year, for instance, three of our newest steamers have left Nagasaki full of valuable cargo, and, though none of them could have experienced bad weather, yet none have been heard of since. All three, strangely enough, carried a large quantity of military stores for Pekin, which had been transhipped from German steamers, and all three left within three weeks. The captains were Englishmen—very good men, too—and what adds to the peculiarity of their disappearance is, that the captain of the English mail-steamer which followed the last out of harbour, and should have passed her eight hours later if she had been on her proper course, never sighted her. We searched the coast ineffectually for any trace of wreckage, and it is only within the last two months that we have obtained a clue.
“One of our large junks from Formosa, being short of water, made for an island, previously reported as being only occasionally inhabited by Korean fishermen. A few men went ashore to fill the casks, found the fishing-nets deserted and no water, so followed a path leading inland and winding up a hill. When nearly at the top they came across four dead Chinamen hanging from trees, and although very frightened, they still pushed on until they came in sight of the natural harbour on the other side of the island. They swear solemnly that, lying at anchor, they saw twenty or thirty steamers and several men-of-war, and that on shore there were many storehouses (go-downs) and huts, and a very large number of natives. They were just going down for water when one of these men, who fortunately had formerly been one of the crew of the Tslai-ming, our crack steamer, recognized her lying there. He is a cute fellow, and at once jumped to the conclusion that these were pirates (you remember how terribly frightened they are of ‘pilons’?), and ran back with his fellows to their boat.
“They brought this news to us.
“Four years ago, when this island was last visited, it was reported as uninhabited. Personally I did not doubt the men’s tale. In fact, they are so frightened, and have spread their story so freely, that it is difficult to get a crew together for any port south of Amoy.
“I have made very careful enquiries to account for the presence of the men-of-war, and have discovered that many of the war-ships, and nearly all the torpedo-boats which were run ashore to escape capture during the late war, had disappeared.
“The local mandarins and officials of course know nothing, but from the natives living near I find that large ships came and stayed near the stranded ships for some weeks, and finally towed them away. There is no doubt that two, if not three, cruisers in bad plight have been sold to a couple of Europeans, and have disappeared, where, no one knows. A couple of the Yangtze corvettes have also mysteriously vanished.
“I memorialized the throne, but they would do nothing, and made fun of my report. The mandarins got hold of my informants, tortured them till they denied the truth of their story, and then of course laughed at me.
“Trade was practically at a stand-still, so we decided to send one of our best captains, an Englishman, to see if the men’s story was correct. He landed at night from a junk, disguised as a native, and spent a day on the island, running great risks of detection, and being taken off next night. He reports that there are certainly three cruisers and seven torpedo-boats anchored there, and at least twenty coasting steamers, among them being the three that disappeared when laden with military stores. Great numbers of coolies were working at the narrow entrance to the harbour, and, as far as he could see, they were mounting guns behind earthworks. He thought he could distinguish some Europeans, but is not certain. He brought a rough plan of the harbour, marking the positions of ships, buildings, and guns.
“I decided to take him next day to some of the ministers whom I knew personally, thinking that they would pay more attention to the word of an Englishman. I must tell you that the three natives who first brought the news and were tortured to deny it, have disappeared, and as they were very honest, faithful men, I suspected some underhanded dealing, and, thinking to keep the Englishman safe made him sleep in my yamen that night. Next morning he had disappeared, and his body was found two days later in a low quarter of the town, stripped of all valuables including the plan, which he had in his pocket-book, although this itself was not taken. The gatekeeper saw him go out, and there is no doubt his habits were unsteady, but for all that his death is very suspicious.
“Naturally I had no proof good enough for the Government, but my friends and myself subscribed ten million dollars, and asked the Government for another five millions, to fit out an expedition and destroy these pirates, offering to hand over to them the men-of-war we intended buying, and also a percentage of our recaptures. They refused at first, but thinking money was to be made out of it, promised us four millions, the protection of the Imperial flag, and the use of their dockyards.
“We had thought of applying to some European power to take the matter up; but you know the great tension of affairs out here at the present, and the acute international jealousies; we therefore came to the conclusion that it would take years to bring this about through the ordinary diplomatic channels, and as every year’s trade is worth from £10,000,000 to £20,000,000 for us, we cannot afford to wait.
“I, therefore, as President of the China Trading Defence Committee, am authorized to offer you the control of this money if you will accept the responsibility of organizing a small expedition with the greatest possible speed to rid us of this unbearable piracy which is destroying our trade.
“You will get this letter and the enclosed lists and tables from our Ambassador in London, who will give you every facility for granting Imperial commissions for your ships and officers, and every information he can.
“I know enough of your service to think that if you take command of this expedition you will advance your prospects, and the opportunity of doing this I have very great pleasure in giving you.
“Wire me your decision and plans; don’t worry about money—haste is the great thing.—Your sincere friend,
“PING SANG.
“TIENTSIN, 17th March.
“P.S.—If you do not accept the command it will be offered to Lieutenant Albrecht of the Imperial German Navy.
“I hope the Doctor with the broad shoulders and terrible fists is well. Give him my ‘chin chin’, and bring him with you if you can.”
Helston finished reading, and both men stared at each other in blank amazement, whilst Jenkins commenced stealthily to remove the breakfast things.
“Well, of all the hare-brained, foolish schemes I ever heard of!” gasped the Doctor.
“There’s something in it, old chap. Ping Sang was one of the richest mandarins in China when we were out there many years ago. A splendid chap, as you remember, and practically an Englishman in his ideas—he went to Charterhouse when he was a boy—and besides, his Government has taken it up, and I have to report myself to the Admiralty; so they believe in it, evidently. Why, old man,” continued Helston, “if this is all true I shall get promotion out of it, and that means—you know as well as I do—that means Milly.” And he danced about the room as if he never had had fever in his rheumatic legs.
“Stop that tomfoolery, and go off to London and find out whether it’s all a mare’s nest or not,” said the Doctor. “Jenkins, go and get the Commander’s things ready at once.”
“For China, sir?”
“No. For London, you fool!”
“Very good, sir,” and off went Jenkins.
“Well, good-bye, Helston, I’m off round the practice. Don’t make an ass of yourself, and let me know the result.”
By the time the Doctor returned Helston had disappeared, and it was late that evening when a telegram brought news of him. The Doctor hurriedly opened it: “Job genuine—accepted command. Send all clothes—cannot return—too busy.”
Three days later he received a long letter. In it Helston wrote that he had been backwards and forwards from the Admiralty, the Foreign Office, and the Chinese Embassy the whole of the last few days settling preliminary details. “The Bank of England has one and a half million to my credit, on the advice of the Ambassador and Ping Sang, so the money is safe enough, and I am trying to get hold of any ship which will be ready in the next three months. Our Admiralty did not at first wish me to take command, and wanted to give me some captains, just as advisers, but I knew what that meant. They would get all the kudos; I should get none. So I told them that if I did not take command, absolutely and entirely, I would throw it up, and, of course, that meant that the Germans would get a look in. That stuck in their gizzards, so they piped down, and I am to be my own boss and have any officers I want, and a large proportion of men, from the navy. They have given me an office and a couple of clerks, and already I’m terribly busy.
“From what I can gather, their idea seems to be that a couple of cruisers of the Apollo type and two or three destroyers will be sufficient for my purpose and well within my means; that if I find myself unable to destroy the pirates, whose existence they still doubt, I shall at least be able to blockade the island till the present tension of political affairs is somewhat relaxed, when they hope to be able to detach some ships from our fleet to help me, more especially if I prove conclusively the existence of these pirates. You may bet your boots,” Helston concluded, “if I can get away from England and past Hong-Kong without interference, I sha’n’t wait for other help. My luck is at the top now, and if only it will remain there for eighteen months or so, I shall be a made man. Will it? that is the question.”
“Silly fool!” thought the Doctor; “he’s always brooding on his ill-luck. If people would only look more on the bright side of things, we should hear less about this fatal ill-luck which they always fancy follows them.”
When he returned from the round of his very limited practice and opened the London paper waiting for him, he swore angrily when he saw that two columns were devoted to the proposed expedition. “Silly fool! giving himself away to these interviewers. It may make him notorious, but the Admiralty won’t like it; and if there are pirates, they will learn his schemes and plans almost as soon as he knows them himself.”
Notes
1 Taotai = military magistrate.