"Cease firing!" said Mr Brooke, for we were a hundred yards away now, and rapidly increasing the distance. "We can do no more good. Thank you, Jecks. Now then, who is hurt?" There was no reply. "What, no one?" cried Mr Brooke. "Yes, sir: why don't you speak out, Tom Jecks? You got it, didn't you?" "Well, so did you; but I arn't going to growl." "More arn't I, messmate. It's nothing much, sir." "Let me see," said Mr Brooke, as we sailed steadily away, while the junk still remained stationary; and, after a rapid examination, he plugged and bound a wound in the man's shoulder, and performed a similar operation upon Tom Jeck's hind-leg, as he called it, a bullet or slug having gone right through the calf. I could not help admiring the calm stolidity with which the two men bore what must have been a painful operation, for neither flinched, but sat in turn gazing at his messmate, as much as to say, "That's the way to take it, my lad; look at me." This done, Mr Brooke turned his attention to the wound received by the boat, where the charge from the swivel gun had gone crashing through the top of the cabin and out at the side. It was a gaping wound in the slight planking of the boat, but the shot had torn their way out some distance above the water-line, so that unless very rough weather came on there was no danger, and we had other and more serious business now to take up our attention. For Ching pointed out to us a certain amount of bustle on board the junk, which was explained by a puff of smoke and a roar, as simultaneously the water was ploughed up close to our stern. "Not clever at their gun drill," said Mr Brooke coolly, as he took the helm himself now, and sent the boat dancing along over the waves, so as to keep her endwise to the junk, and present a smaller object for the pirate's aim. "That's bad management under some circumstances, Herrick," he said, smiling. "It's giving an enemy the chance of raking us from stern to stem, but I don't believe they can hit us.--I thought not." He said this smiling, as the water was churned up again by another shot, but several yards away upon our right. Another shot and another followed without result, and by this time we were getting well out of range of the swivel gun, a poor, roughly-made piece, and our distance was being rapidly increased. "Going away!" said Ching, as we saw the great mat-sails of the junk fill. "Or to come in chase--which?" said Mr Brooke quietly. "It does not matter," he added; "we shall soon have darkness again, and I think we shall be too nimble for them then." "Beg pardon, sir," said Tom Jecks. "Yes, what is it? Your wound painful?" "Tidy, sir; but that warn't it. I was only going to say, look yonder."