Phil’s solicitude for his friend was great. How could he hide this wound from the searching little worm? He thought of his pocket handkerchief in his blouse pocket; reaching inside his coat with his manacled hands, he dragged it slowly out, with the intention of using it as a bandage about Sydney’s wrist, but to his consternation as he pulled a bright spark of metal flashed before his eyes and the precious jade ring fell loudly to the floor at the jailer’s feet. The Chinaman pounced upon it with avidity, hastily concealing it in his loose clothes. Phil attempted to hold him, but he roughly pushed him aside, shutting the barred door in his face with a loud slam. Their last hope had flown. The Chinaman would doubtless conceal the ring and say he knew nothing in case he was questioned. The keen disappointment at the loss of the talisman made Phil fear even more for the terrible predicament of his companion. A few more days in this noisome hole might mean his death. Ill fed, with no opportunity to wash away the accumulated dirt from their unclean surroundings, he must surely fall a victim of the insidious insect. Another night passed in torture, relieved only by an occasional exchange of signals between Phil and Langdon. He had fared no worse than the midshipmen. Phil told him of the loss of the ring and afterward there was a long silence, as if the news were too disappointing to find an answer. Finally after several hours, the midshipmen were awakened from their painful slumber to hear the signal from the pilot. “The viceroy has received some word from the allies. He asked me many questions to-day,” and then abruptly the whistle ceased. The lads were eager to hear more, but Langdon was silent, and soon a jailer entered and threatened by signs to gag the midshipmen if they continued; so, much against their inclinations, they stopped signaling. Early the next morning the lads were awakened from an uneasy sleep by loud cries in the courtyard outside of their cell door. The jailer hurried in, unlocking their chains and signed them to follow him. The midshipmen upon staggering to their feet would have fallen, if it had not been for the prompt support of their fellow prisoners, who having risen from their earth beds were gazing curiously through the open door. Emerging into the sunlight Phil at first could see nothing, but the jailer, taking each by a hand, led them staggeringly across the sandy courtyard. Then suddenly, pushing on their shoulders, the jailer forced the midshipmen on their knees before two mandarins. Phil raised his eyes and saw the kindly face of the Tartar general, while from the lips of the other, a stranger, came in perfect English as he raised the almost fainting lads to their feet: “Come with us; we are your friends.”