three P.M.
`` Up with the jib -- man the taupsle halliards -- all hands make sail . '' Round she came slow and majestically ; the sails filled , and the good ship bore away for England . She made the Bogue forts in three or four tacks , and there she had to come to again for another chop , China being a place as hard to get into as Heaven , and to get out of as -- Chancery . At three P.M. she was at Macao , and hove to four miles from the land to take in her passengers . A gun was fired from the forecastle . No boats came off . Sharpe began to fret ; for the wind , though light , had now got to the N.W. , and they were wasting it .