CHAPTER FORTY THREE.
OUR REFUGE.
"Oh deah me!" said Ching in his most squeaky tones, "I velly hungly.
You like nicee bleakfast, Mis' Hellick ?" "Don't speak to me as if I were a baby, Ching," I cried angrily.
"No; speak like to offlicer, Mr Hellick.

You likee bleakfast-- something good eat ?" "I hadn't thought of it before, Ching," I said, feeling rather ashamed of my angry tone; "but I am faint, and I suppose that is through being hungry." "Yes; Ching go down among locks and sand, see if he find something eat." "No, no," I cried excitedly; "it would be madness." "Eh?
you tinkee Ching mad ?" he said, with a smile.
"Oh no; but you would meet some of the pirates." "No; allee gone 'long shore.

Not come back long time." "But it is too risky.

Perhaps some of the wretches are waiting." "No; allee velly wicked--velly bad men.

Feel 'flaid stop all alone.
'Flaid see men again headee chop off.