“The viceroy’s now going to send a flag of truce to us,” Sydney suggested; “and I hope Ta-Ling comes with it. I’d certainly like to see Phil hand him back the pigtail he borrowed.” Despite the seriousness of the situation all laughed at the thought of the discomfited Chinaman without his cue. The ships were now passing close to the “Albaque”; the sailors of that gunboat watched the American monitors in sullen silence. The midshipmen looked in vain for Commander Ignacio; he was not on deck. “She’s ready to get under way,” Phil exclaimed, pointing to that vessel. “See! her anchor gear is rove off and her steam launch has been hoisted inboard.” Sure signs indeed that the gunboat was ready to move. The “Monterey” slowly steamed by the renegades until the gate of the city came in view from the river; then a rattle of chain announced that the war-ship had anchored. The “Monadnock” had by order stopped astern and upon signal dropped her anchor, so that in case of treachery that monitor’s big guns could be readily trained on the forts. “Now, Barnes,” Commander Hughes said with energy, “call away the landing force and set them ashore.” Then he drew Lieutenant Wilson aside, talking earnestly with him for some minutes. Inside of another ten minutes the midshipmen found themselves on the jetty of the foreign concession, while in ranks along the water front, their rifles at the shoulder, stood three hundred stalwart sailors from the three American ships. Phil glanced uneasily toward the high city wall. The gate he could not see, but he knew it was closed and the drawbridge raised. Probably the Chinamen he had seen on the wall when the monitors steamed down the river were now peering out through the hundreds of loopholes, their rifles ready to defend their city from the foreign invader, for the lad knew that Lieutenant Wilson’s orders had been to rescue the sailors in the yamen. “How shall we cross the moat?” he faltered to Langdon at his side. The question remained unanswered, for the next moment a heavy discharge rent the still air, followed by an explosion near the city wall. Again came the shock of firing and Phil saw that the “Monterey’s” big guns had been fired at the main gateway of the city. Shell after shell sped quickly toward the gateway, scarcely five hundred yards from the monitor’s guns. The lads gazed about them in bewilderment. How could this aid them? Then the firing ceased and a flag waved rapidly from the war-ship. “Fours right,” Lieutenant Wilson cried excitedly, hastily leading the column to the cross street up which the monitor had fired. Arriving there, Phil gasped with admiration at the havoc wrought by the big shells. The drawbridge was down across the moat and the great gate of wood and iron had been literally torn from its huge hinges and thrown bodily fifty feet within the city.