Phil quickly found Commander Hughes, who had sought cover behind a mound and was waiting until his men became steadied before giving the order to advance. Langdon threw his great arms about the lads as they reached the protecting earth mound, while the captain’s voice struck encouragingly upon their ears. “Splendid!” he exclaimed. “He was dead, sir,” Phil said sorrowfully. “We couldn’t have saved his body and ourselves too.” Silence lasted for several minutes, each reverencing the visit of death. “We must win now!” Commander Hughes exclaimed grimly. “And we must repair that bridge before we can return. But come; we must leave our cover and drive these Chinamen from our path.” Suiting his action to his words, he blew a shrill blast from his whistle, the signal on the skirmish line for “attention.” “Forward,” he commanded in a voice that sounded loudly above the din of musketry. The sailors sprang forward with enthusiasm; the long wait under the fire of an unseen enemy had bottled up their energy. Each sailor’s foremost desire was to come to close quarters with the treacherous Chinamen. The long, slender line moved upward toward the mission crest; the men taking cover as they found it, and shooting when their keen eyes discerned a shadowy form skulking away before their advance into the darker shadows. The sharp rattle of the Colt guns told the advancing men that the mission was stubbornly resisting. Phil moved incessantly along the advancing skirmish line, carrying orders from his captain to the flank companies; the alarming song of the bullets ever in his ears. “Press forward, keeping the guide on the center!” had been Commander Hughes’ simple instructions, and faithfully were they being carried out by the determined men. The mission loomed through the darkness scarce five hundred yards distant; the tongues of flame from its wall answered by cries of rage and defiance from the enemy’s position inspired the rescuing sailors to renewed exertions to reach the protecting compound. The Chinese who had opened fire upon the Americans during the passage across the ill-fated bridge had stolen away toward the shadowy flanks; between the advancing sailors and their objective there were now no answering shots. Then suddenly the battery which had been hurling shell at the stone wall of the mission turned its fierce attention upon the unprotected rescuers. “Seek cover!” Commander Hughes ordered; and the men huddled together in groups, thankful for the homes of the dead, which furnished such perfect protection from the well-directed fire of grape and canister from the Chinese artillery, now giving its undivided attention to the approaching reënforcements.