By signs
we drove a bargain--a silver dollar and two fingers; three fingers; five
fingers--and got for seven silver dollars the services of several men in
four sampans, who took their places along the channel just ahead of us and
sounded the depth with bamboo poles, until by their guidance we crossed the
second bar on the flood tide, which providentially came at the very hour
when we most needed it, and proceeded safely on up the river.
That night, too tired and weak to stand, we let the best bower go by the
run in Whampoa Roads, and threw ourselves on the deck. By and by--hours
later it seemed--we heard the sound of oars.
"Island Princess ahoy!" came the hearty hail.
"Ahoy," some one replied.
"What's wrong? Come, look alive! What does this mean?"
I now sat up and saw that Roger was standing in the stern just as he had
stood before, his feet spread far apart, his arms folded, his chin
out-thrust. "Do you, sir," he said slowly, "happen to have a bottle of wine
with you?"
I heard the men talking together, but I could not tell what they were
saying. Next, I saw a head appear above the bulwark and realized that they
were coming aboard.
"Bless my soul! What's happened? Where's Captain Whidden? Bless my soul!
Who are _you_?" The speaker was big, well dressed, comfortably well fed.
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