For two days nothing occurred worthy of mention. The _Dream_ made good progress. The commencement of the voyage promised well--so that Captain Turcott seemed occasionally to feel an anxiety which he tried in vain to hide. Each day as the sun crossed the meridian he carefully took his observations. But it could be noticed that immediately afterwards he retired with the mate into his cabin, and then they remained in secret conclave as if they were discussing some grave eventuality. This performance passed probably unnoticed by Godfrey, who understood nothing about the details of navigation, but the boatswain and the crew seemed somewhat astonished at it, particularly as for two or three times during the first week, when there was not the least necessity for the manoeuvre, the course of the _Dream_ at night was completely altered, and resumed again in the morning. In a sailing-ship this might be intelligible; but in a steamer, which could keep on the great circle line and only use canvas when the wind was favourable, it was somewhat extraordinary. During the morning of the 12th of June a very unexpected incident occurred on board. Captain Turcott, the mate, and Godfrey, were sitting down to breakfast when an unusual noise was heard on deck. Almost immediately afterwards the boatswain opened the door and appeared on the threshold. "Captain!" he said. "What's up?" asked Turcott, sailor as he was, always on the alert. "Here's a--Chinee!" said the boatswain. "A Chinese!" "Yes! a genuine Chinese we have just found by chance at the bottom of the hold!" "At the bottom of the hold!" exclaimed Turcott. "Well, by all the--somethings--of Sacramento, just send him to the bottom of the sea!" "All right!" answered the boatswain. And that excellent man with all the contempt of a Californian for a son of the Celestial Empire, taking the order as quite a natural one, would have had not the slightest compunction in executing it. However, Captain Turcott rose from his chair, and followed by Godfrey and the mate, left the saloon and walked towards the forecastle of the _Dream_. There stood a Chinaman, tightly handcuffed, and held by two or three sailors, who were by no means sparing of their nudges and knocks. He was a man of from five-and-thirty to forty, with intelligent features, well built, of lithe figure, but a little emaciated, owing to his sojourn for sixteen hours at the bottom of a badly ventilated hold. Captain Turcott made a sign to his men to leave the unhappy intruder alone. "Who are you?" he asked. "A son of the sun." "And what is your name?" "Seng Vou," answered the Chinese, whose name in the Celestial language signifies "he who does not live." "And what are you doing on board here?" "I am out for a sail!" coolly answered Seng Vou, "but am doing you as little harm as I can." "Really! as little harm!--and you stowed yourself away in the hold when we started?" "Just so, captain."