ever, before the occupants had extinguished the burning gunwales, the flames had burnt through the painter, and the boat drifted away in the darkness. The remaining four officers, the passengers, and crew were left on a blazing ship on the high seas without a boat.

Now commenced what proved to be the most arduous labours of that terrible night. Hour after hour they fought the flames. Passengers and crew, and even suspected pirates, cut off by the flames from their comrades, all worked under the direction of the perspiring smoke-grimed Europeans. Gone now was all terror, unquestioning the obedience. Foreign devils who could strike terror into a band of bloodthirsty pirates who outnumbered them six to one could do anything. They felt they were on the winning side. What was a fire, anyway? Perhaps on these queer foreign ships this

was a common occurrence.

They worked unceasingly at the hand-pumps, passing buckets in chain; even little toddlers carried water in tea-cups, and one venerable old dame solemnly hobbled backwards and forwards with a utensil that would have been more at home in a bedroom. The four officers were here, there, everywhere, trying to prevent the fire from spreading, directing operations, working themselves and urging the others to greater effort.

At last the welcome lights of a ship appeared, and, coming

to a stand-to three miles away, the hopes of the stricken crew soared high. Assistance at last. Perhaps the women and children would be taken off anyway, and their greatest anxiety removed.

Then a thing occurred of which, as a merchant service officer, I write with shame-a thing without parallel. The ship steamed away and left the blazing vessel with every soul aboard to its fate. Did they guess pirates? We may never know, but the incident was surely the worst blot on the glorious history of the mercantile marine. Under whatever flag she sailed, the people on board of her disgraced it.

It was with a sense of bitter disappointment and disgust that they carried on with their efforts. Fate seemed to be against them, and the terrible night was not yet through. It still wanted one hour to dawn.

Whilst all hands were desperately fighting the fire on the Sunning, the ship's boat was scudding away under sail at three or four knots. Madame Proklofieva was sea-sick, and at any other time might have relied on sympathy from Hurst, but not now. For her own safety as well as theirs he bullied her unmercifully. Bail! was his order. Let me alone!" said the poor lady, but Hurst shook her by the shoulders and pushed her hat in her hands. "Bail with that!" he said, and in truth all hands had to bail for dear

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life to keep the boat afloat. The sail gave the boat steerage way, and without steerage way they were doomed. Every operation had to be carried out in pitch darkness. Twice the mast broke, and each time Hurst succeeded in repairing it before they foundered. No sympathy was going that night. There was no time for it. The crowd on the Sunning were fighting the flames; they were fighting the wind and the sea.

At last came the dawn, and never was dawn more eagerly awaited, but their troubles were not over. Just a couple of boat-lengths away was the boat of the pirates. "Let us ram them and fight with the hatchets," said Hurst, but wiser counsels prevailed. "See if they put up a fight first," said one of the others. "If we go for them they'll be paralysed for a start," said Hurst, but the judgment of his shipmates was right. A night in an open boat had knocked all the fight out of the pirates. The boats drifted apart.

Eventually a steamer was sighted. It was the s.s. Ravensfjell, a Norwegian vessel. The steamer altered course. The boat had been seen. At last their trials were over. The lady never quite forgave Hurst for the unceremonious way she was bundled aboard. Just like a sack of potatoes," as she expressed it; but boarding a ship from a small open boat in a heavy sea is never a very dignified proceeding, and perhaps Hurst and the others

The Ravensfjell signalled to Hong Kong, and eventually H.M.S. Bluebell took the little party off and conveyed them to Hong-Kong. The Bluebell had quite a lot of passengers that trip, for they had picked up the occupants of pirate boat number two, all except one, that is, who, after tenderly handing up a wounded brother pirate, dived into the sea and was drowned. The Bluebell had already been in action that day, for she had been to the assistance of the Sunning. But this puts us ahead of our story, for we left the stricken crew fighting the flames that stabbed the black night.

The dawn that broke so hopefully to those in the small boat brought relief to those on the Sunning too. The crew and passengers were still working at top pressure. Any utensil that would hold water had been pressed into service. Everybody was doing his or her best with rice bowl, bucket, or dixie. But there on the horizon was a ship. It was the Kaiyo Maru, which steamed up and stood by. The first thing they did was to wireless the vessel's plight to HongKong, where the necessary steps could be taken. Next came the Genoa Maru, another Japanese ship, which stood by also. Full dawn brought H.M.S. Bluebell. This put a bit of heart into the flagging energies of the Sunning officers, who

now felt that fate was not entirely against them. An hour or two later three ships of her own company were on the spot, the Kaying, Suiyang, and Shantung.

The Shantung and the two Japanese boats were advised to proceed, as the assistance at hand was ample, and not until then did they go about their business.

Beatty stood on the head of the poop and signalled to the Kaying to send a boat to the Bluebell for an armed guard. 66 Pirates send for armed guard," was his message.

The master of the Kaying was a practical-minded man. They've had pirates aboard, and the blighters have set fire to their ship," he said. "I'll bet they've had nothing to eat for twenty-four hours. Send them a case of beer, Mr Thompson, and tell the steward to cut some sandwiches.”

As it was still believed there were pirates aboard, the second mate, Mr Ramsey, and the second engineer, Mr Boagey, both strapped on their revolvers and went to lend a hand in any direction required. They rowed with the Chinese boat's crew to the Bluebell, where they got a guard of marines, and proceeded to the scene of action. Mounting the rope ladder in that awful sea, which continually bashed the small boat up against the ship's side, proved a bit of a task to the unaccustomed Jonties, but when they got aboard they worked like heroes, and the

beer and sandwiches did not come amiss. It sizzled down human throats singing hymns, and was more precious than molten gold. It was worth a guinea a drop.

Eventually the Kaying got a tow-rope off and commenced to tow the Sunning to port. The Bluebell departed to search for the missing three boats, leaving the marine guard to render what assistance it could on the Sunning.

This took a load off the minds of the Sunning quartette. They had been worried lest their unarmed shipmates and the lady passenger should fall into the hands of the pirates. Their fate if they were taken to Bias Bay alive would be too horrible to think of.

By the efforts of all on board, the marines working with the rest, the fire was kept confined to the midship superstructure, and the ship was saved. The Kaying and the Suiyang both attempted the difficult feat of towing the Sunning to port, but the weather was against them, and it became necessary to send for the company's tug. The next day the Sunning arrived at Hong-Kong, still smouldering. The officers had been working continuously at a high strain ever since the pirates took command, and were about all in, but they did their best when the police boarded to sort out the sheep from the goats, and nine men suspected of piracy were marked out and arrested.

The next morning the paper came out with a long report of how Captain Pringle singlehanded had brained the two pirates and got the ship back. This was embarrassing to the gallant old chap, and when it was contradicted he suffered from an ill-informed disparagement in some quarters of the magnificent services herendered.

There is no doubt that if it had not been for the courage and resource of Hurst the counter-attack would not have taken place, and if it had not been for the cool staff work and co-operation of Beatty it Iwould not have been successful. When the others came into it they all worked together with the precision of a trained football team. But one thing stands out beyond

How much longer are sentimentalists at home going to be allowed to tie the hands of the British Navy? Give them a chance to do their job, and give us a chance to do our job, in peace and security.

There is only one remedy for piracy. Evasions which are designed to make our Navy a still life study in toleration, and peaceful merchant seamen into Friday night and Saturday warriors, effect nothing. They jeopardise the lives of men who do the work, to spare the nobler feelings of them that talk about it.

They do not mitigate, much less eradicate, the evil.

If our humanitarian parliamentarians do not believe in a naval ship ever firing a gun in anger, they should build indiarubber ships to police China, and blow them up with hot air, and arm them with confetti guns, and man them with cardboard men, and then they can come out and have our jobs, for I and several more are coming home.