Finally Phil could bear it no longer; the sickening odor from their unwashed bodies became more than his endurance could stand. Managing to rise to his feet, he painfully crossed the damp floor to a wooden bench, the only article of furniture in the cell; reaching this he sat down upon it, gently but forcefully pushing the prisoners seated beside him until he had the bench entirely to himself. The Chinese stood close by in silent surprise, showing no anger at this treatment. “Come here, Sydney,” he called. “We’ll take the bench and keep these ruffians away. They’ll smother us with their heathen curiosity.” Sydney crawled through the delighted crowd, the prisoners moving aside readily for him, and as he reached the bench and raised himself off the reeking floor to a seat beside Phil, the gaping Chinamen chattered like children, quite absorbed in the infrequent spectacle of foreign devils in their jail. A number of the more bold among the prisoners squatted on the floor close to the bench, examining the stout boots and leggins of the midshipmen, but these Phil motioned away, emphasizing his meaning by a shove from his manacled feet. The Chinamen arose at once, their faces expressing only astonishment. The lads were soon left alone; their fellow prisoners had formed a circle around them with an intervening space of over a yard, while one or two of their number assumed the rôle of protectors and faithfully kept their comrades from infringing upon this forbidden ground. “They are more kind than their masters,” Sydney said, after the midshipmen had gathered their scattered wits. “Poor fellows, they seem as happy as if they were only doing penance for small sins,” Phil replied, gazing compassionately at his motley companions. “Yet they are all condemned to be executed. Do you see the large ring each wears about his neck, with a brass tag attached? That’s the mark of a felon to be beheaded, or worse.” “Where do you suppose they’ve taken Langdon?” Sydney asked anxiously. “It’s certainly terrible to be helpless in the power of these cruel Chinese. They may even now have beheaded him. The viceroy was angry enough to revenge himself.” “I hope it’s not so bad as that,” Phil answered, trying hard to be reassuring, not feeling, however, a particle more secure than the condemned men about him. “Langdon said,” he added grimly, “if our hands were lifted up high behind our backs and they hurried us out of the cell, our heads would probably be cut off in the large outer court. Until they do that, I suppose we may be sure that we are not in any immediate danger of death.” Sydney shuddered at the unpleasant thought. And this was the China that they had been so eager to visit. Toward evening a great tub filled with millet was brought in by the keepers and this the prisoners devoured ravenously. Luckily for the lads, they had satisfied their appetite from the viceroy’s table, for they would have stood but scant chance among that hungry rabble.