“About five miles from here,” he said. “It’s built in the middle of an ancient Chinese graveyard and is a thorn in the side of the Chinese. It was erected three years ago, and by order of this same viceroy. No other site could be used. He knew that the Chinese would never rest until they tore the building down. It took nearly two years to build; all the work was done by Christian converts. I don’t blame the captain for feeling uneasy, for in my opinion that mission will be the first point of attack.” Phil and Sydney were soon after below in their rooms finishing their unpacking; for they had but recently arrived on the station and had joined the gunboat just previous to her leaving Shanghai on her four-hundred mile cruise up the great Chinese river. So interested were they during the day, viewing the shifting scenery, and at night so much of their time had been occupied in standing watch on the gunboat’s bridge, that they had quite forgotten their trunks as yet unpacked in the ward-room passages. After dinner that evening, while the midshipmen were enjoying the bracing fall air on the quarter-deck, Phil was suddenly summoned to report immediately to the captain. Receiving Commander Hughes’ instructions to take the steam launch and board each of the foreign gunboats, the midshipman left the cabin to carry out his orders, much elated at the exalted rôle he was playing in the affairs of nations. About an hour later, having visited each of the foreign gunboats and given to their commanding officers his captain’s letters, the launch breasted the swift current of the river on her return to the ship. The coxswain of the launch was steering his boat close to the hulls of the junks moored to the jetty, in order to avoid the strength of the current. The river was silent; no sound could be heard save the whir of the tiny engine and the rush of the tide against the sides of the launch. As the boat passed within the shadow of a high-sided junk, such as are used by the wealthy Chinese as house-boats, a piercing cry rang out over the quiet water from her deck, directly above Phil’s head; then he heard the sound of a scuffle, followed by the splash of a heavy body in the dark waters astern of the launch. The lad was on his feet in an instant; throwing off his coat, he sprang out on the launch’s rail, ready to go to the assistance of the unfortunate one who had been swallowed up in the treacherous waters. The coxswain had by signal stopped the headway of the launch and all eyes were searching the waters astern: the ripples that closed over the body were visible, while some yards down stream an object floated, all but submerged, rapidly borne away by the hurrying flood. The lad stood irresolute for the fraction of a second, fear of the treacherous flood tugging at his heart; then overcoming this momentary weakness, he turned to the coxswain beside him: