We steamed close in, ginger-like, and spied a lumbering junk a-sailing clumsily out towards us, and when she gets nearer we sees her flying the white flag at the peak of her great sail made of matting; and then, strike me pink! if she didn’t ’oist the "wish to communicate" flags at her mast-head. If a polar bear came up to you in the street o’ Portsmouth and said, "Beg pardon, but can you tell me where I can get a ice", you wouldn’t ’ave been more struck aback than we were to see that dirty junk a-’oisting signals all regular-like. "Bless my rags," I ’eard Mr. Parker say, "but that about takes the currant biscuit for cheek;" and after a bit of rummaging in the signal-book we hoisted "Send a boat", and they answered it from the junk and sent a boat across to us, a man-of-war’s whaler which they had tied up at the stern, with a crew of Chinese dressed as bluejackets—stolid-looking ruffians they were, too, as they squinted up at us from their wicked little eyes. They brought a letter for Mister Ping Sang, the fat old gent who, they tell me, forks out the dollars to keep this show going, and has come along o’ Captain Helston to see the fun. Back we goes to the _Laird_, and Mr. Parker takes it across in the dinghy and comes back, ’alf larfing an’ ’alf swearing, with a couple of big portmanties and ten bags of dollars sealed up, and all ’eavy as you could make ’em. We shoves off back to that junk and ’ands ’em all over to her; but it was all a mystery to me till Mr. Glover tells me afterwards that the fat Chinese gent ’ad been a-playing cards with the pirate chief when he was kept a prisoner and lost all that mint of money, an’ ’ad been juggins enough to promise to pay it up and bring the luggage what that Englishman who nabbed him had left be’ind ’im at ’Ong-Kong. Blister my heels! if it didn’t fairly give me the knock-out! And that junk just ’oisted ’er boat aboard and sailed ’ome again with all those dollars, the crew maybe a-cocking snooks at us over the stern. An’, just as her big sail disappears under them cliffs, blest if the pirates didn’t fire a big gun at us from the top of ’em, though we were five miles off if we were a yard. It didn’t fetch up by a couple o’ hundred yards, but splashed into the sea and racochied over’ead, playing ducks-and-drakes a mile the other side. When they see’d that one go short they fires another, an’ the signalman sings out that it is comin’ straight for us, and lays down on ’is belly; he never done this since—we chaffed ’im so immerciful—and a good many of the youngsters would ’ave done the same if they’d had the moral courage, what they hadn’t. It did come mighty close and struck the water not fifty yards away, buzzing off again like a hive of bees out for a airing. Well, you bet we didn’t wait for any more o’ them "kind enquiries and ’ow are you", but were hup, hoff, an’ hout of it, hout of range.