“Fear!” Langdon exclaimed. “Why, almost every kind of torture and death. When once the Chinese are allowed to avenge themselves upon the foreigner there’s no limit to their cruelty.” “Why can’t we appeal to the Chinese government at Peking to protect foreigners?” Phil asked gravely. “Haven’t we a treaty with China for protection of United States citizens here?” Langdon gave the lad a withering look, as he replied: “This viceroy is not letting Peking know what is happening in his provinces. If he succeeds in making the country over which he rules dangerous and unprofitable to foreigners without doing more than kill a few missionaries and ruining foreign trade, Peking will apologize for the deaths and pay an indemnity to the families of those killed and then to sustain him in the eyes of his people decorate him with the Order of the Dragon. But if he goes too far, then Peking, in order to save herself from an invasion of foreign soldiers, will disgrace the viceroy in one of the many ways known best to the Chinese.” “Here comes the captain now,” Sydney exclaimed as a small white canopied steam launch shoved off from the jetty and stood toward the “Phœnix.” All three walked toward the gangway to meet Commander Hughes, the captain of the gunboat, who had been ashore to visit his consul and gather the latest news of the much feared uprising among the fanatical natives. “Well, Webster,” Commander Hughes exclaimed in hearty tones to the executive officer, as he put his foot on the quarter-deck, returning in a precise manner the salutes of the officers standing near. “Keep your guard for the mission ready to land at a moment’s notice. I saw that half-breed Emmons, the oracle of the river. He is non-committal, but I can see he fears trouble. He promised to warn me in plenty of time. Emmons says that the Tartar general, commanding all the soldiers under the viceroy, is not in sympathy with this movement, and if he can urge the viceroy to take steps to suppress it, our presence here may yet be unnecessary.” After the captain had entered his cabin the two midshipmen turned eagerly upon the pilot. “Who is this half-breed Emmons the captain speaks of?” Phil demanded. “Do you see all those launches over there?” the pilot inquired, pointing to the near-by docks where many small vessels were unloading. “Well, they belong to Emmons,” he added, “and he’s very rich. His mother was a native woman and his father an American merchant skipper. Emmons wears Chinese clothes and to meet him on the street you’d take him for a native. We’re lucky to have Emmons with us, but if the viceroy suspects that he is, he’d enjoy nothing better than to confiscate his property and expel him from the provinces, even if he doesn’t have him executed.” “Where’s this mission?” Sydney asked gazing searchingly out over the green sloped hills of the country. Langdon held a pointing finger steadily out to the right of the walled Chinese city.