“He’s glad of that,” said one of the crew, reflectively. “I shouldn’t wonder.” They flocked down to the harbour-front, the militia regiment clattering behind, and embarked themselves in what they found—it happened to be the Governor’s boat. Then they disappeared over the bulwarks of the _Haliotis_, and the Governor prayed that they might find occupation inside. Mr. Wardrop’s first bound took him to the engine-room; and when the others were patting the well-remembered decks, they heard him giving God thanks that things were as he had left them. The wrecked engines stood over his head untouched; no inexpert hand had meddled with his shores; the steel wedges of the store-room were rusted home; and, best of all, the hundred and sixty tons of good Australian coal in the bunkers had not diminished. “I don’t understand it,” said Mr. Wardrop. “Any Malay knows the use o’ copper. They ought to have cut away the pipes. And with Chinese junks coming here, too. It’s a special interposition o’ Providence.” “You think so,” said the skipper, from above. “There’s only been one thief here, and he’s cleaned her out of all _my_ things, anyhow.” Here the skipper spoke less than the truth, for under the planking of his cabin, only to be reached by a chisel, lay a little money which never drew any interest—his sheet-anchor to windward. It was all in clean sovereigns that pass current the world over, and might have amounted to more than a hundred pounds. “He’s left me alone. Let’s thank God,” repeated Mr. Wardrop. “He’s taken everything else; look!” The _Haliotis_, except as to her engine-room, had been systematically and scientifically gutted from one end to the other, and there was strong evidence that an unclean guard had camped in the skipper’s cabin to regulate that plunder. She lacked glass, plate, crockery, cutlery, mattresses, cuddy carpets and chairs, all boats, and her copper ventilators. These things had been removed, with her sails and as much of the wire rigging as would not imperil the safety of the masts. “He must have sold those,” said the skipper. “The other things are in his house, I suppose.” Every fitting that could be pried or screwed out was gone. Port, starboard, and masthead lights; teak gratings; sliding sashes of the deckhouse; the captain’s chest of drawers, with charts and chart-table; photographs, brackets, and looking-glasses; cabin doors; rubber cuddy mats; hatch-irons; half the funnel-stays; cork fenders; carpenter’s grindstone and tool-chest; holystones, swabs, squeegees; all cabin and pantry lamps; galley-fittings _en bloc;_ flags and flag-locker; clocks, chronometers; the forward compass and the ship’s bell and belfry, were among the missing. There were great scarred marks on the deck-planking over which the cargo-derricks had been hauled. One must have fallen by the way, for the bulwark-rails were smashed and bent and the side-plates bruised.