"Not jolly sailor boy," said Ching; and I felt a peculiar exaltation. "Not Mis' Blooke. Pilate man dlowned. Ching velly glad." We turned away, and continued our route, for I shrank from going into dangerous breakers to try and drag the man out, and my companion was too weak. As to its being one of the pirates, it seemed possible, for I knew that one, if not two, had gone overboard in the fight, and it was probably one of these. We trudged on and reached the ridge at last, to find it bigger and more precipitous than I had expected. It ran out evidently for hundreds of yards, its course being marked by foam and fretting waves, and I was just thinking what a fatal spot it would be for a vessel to touch the shore, when I reached the top and uttered a startled cry, which brought the others to my side; for there was the explanation of the presence of the drowned Chinaman! Spreading away for a couple of hundred yards, the shore was covered with timbers, great bamboo spars, ragged sails, and the torn and shattered fragments of some large Chinese vessel; while, before I could shape it in my mind as to the possibilities of what vessel this could be, though certain it was not the _Teaser_, Ching said coolly-- "That velly good job. That big junk blow all to pieces, and allee bad pilate man dlowned. No go choppee off poor sailor head now. No 'teal silk, tea, allee good thing, and burnee ship. Velly good job indeed; velly bad lot." "You think it was the junk which cheated us?" "Yes, velly muchee same. Look, allee paint, lacquee, gold. Allee same junk; no use go find um now. No get head chop off for killee sailo'. Allee bad pilate allee dlowned." "Hold hard there, sir," whispered Tom Jecks. "I can hear people talking. Quick! squat, hide; there's a lot on 'em coming down off the cliff." We had just time to hide behind some rocks, when a party of about twenty Chinamen came cautiously and slowly down on to the sands, and Ching whispered as he peeped between the fragments of rock-- "Not allee pilate dlowned. Come along look at junk; take care; choppee off allee head; must hide." Ching was quite right, and I was awake to the fact that we three were prisoners on a little desert island, and in company with a gang of as savage and desperate enemies as man could have. CHAPTER FORTY TWO. FOR DEAR LIFE. It was all clear enough: the great junk which had so deceived Mr Brooke and Ching had been cast ashore and shattered, these men having escaped and been exploring the island, or perhaps they were only coming down now from the spot where they had taken refuge after being cast ashore. "Why, Ching," I whispered, "perhaps there are more of them about!" "P'laps," he replied.