"What do you advise?" asked Helston, biting his words, as he always does when excited. "Whatever we do we must do quickly." "Heugh! heugh! heugh!" chuckled Cummins, selecting a fresh toothpick from his pocket, "I should give that cove some brandy first of all," pointing to A Tsi, who was looking pretty ill, and he smiled blandly at us, wandered off to a corner of the cabin where Helston kept his cigars, and lighted one, whilst a servant brought the drink and turned on the electric light, for by this time it had become dark. Every now and then he gave vent to an irritating chuckle, as if immensely amused at the whole story, whilst Helston watched him with ill-concealed impatience, knowing that it was useless to hurry him. Then suddenly turning round, he gave his advice: "Communicate with the police, sir, and have Ping Sang traced. Get search warrants issued, and search every junk leaving Hong-Kong to-night. This Englishman has got a long start, but there is no breeze to speak of, and if he tries to get him away to the mainland, we might catch him if you sent the destroyers out at once. That man—the one with the brandy—would possibly recognize the junk. Send him with Parker (’No. 3’); he’s the smartest of the three, and will probably get away first. I will go up and make the necessary signals, and have their searchlights sent over from the _Sylvia_. They may be able to get away in an hour." Without waiting for Helston’s "All right, Cummins, you carry on," he sauntered up on deck, and we heard him singing out for the signalman; and then, putting his head down the skylight, he chuckled; "Heugh! heugh! heugh! You need have no fear for your Chinese friend, sir; they won’t hurt a hair of his head. They’ll want to exchange him for that rascal Hopkins." "Bless my soul, I never thought of that!" exclaimed Helston, much relieved; "I never thought of that!" The Skipper’s galley being called away, he and I went ashore, taking Ho Ming with us. We landed at Murray Pier, and had to push through a crowd of curious Chinamen. Helston clutched my arm and whispered excitedly: "There are some of those brutes who shadowed me in London. Get out of this quickly, old chap!" I thought he was probably mistaken, and put it down to his nervousness, but when we got into rickshaws and were driven rapidly up the street, I could swear that several detached themselves from the crowd and followed us in the dark shadows of the trees on either side. However, there was no trace of them when we reached the main road. By a stroke of luck we found the Chief of Police at Headquarters, and he telephoned to Aberdeen for more information. Ping Sang had been discharged two hours ago, and was taken aboard the Amoy junks, one of which was just then sailing. He listened impatiently whilst the Chief of Police spoke through the telephone. "Has she left the harbour?" ... "Well, can’t you follow her?" ... "How about the steam-boat?" ...