As Phil closed the door softly behind him the Chinaman glanced up casually, speaking a few words in his guttural tongue. The lad made no reply, but glanced about hastily to make sure those near could not discover what was about to happen. His heart was beating fast. He saw a door beyond the victim which he knew must lead directly into the viceroy’s own apartments; voices, almost inaudible, came to his ears from the rooms on the other side of that slender partition. He saw that he must work quickly and silently. Any moment the door might open and he would be discovered, for his disguise would be useless under the direct gaze of a Chinese mandarin. The treasurer had seen him but indistinctly and had taken for granted that he was Ta-Ling. [Illustration: _HE MEASURED THE STRENGTH OF HIS ANTAGONIST_] Moving silently to the side of the absorbed Chinaman, Phil stood for the fraction of a second looking down on his work. His eyes sought out the curve of the neck in its enveloping robe while he measured the strength of his antagonist. Raising his hands in readiness, he poised them aloft ready to grasp the slender neck within his muscular fingers. As if by premonition of the danger threatening him, the Chinaman dropped his hands from the abacus and glanced swiftly up into Phil’s face. The next second the midshipman’s hands had encircled his neck and the terrified outcry which the lad saw in his frightened eyes was stifled. “Hurry, Langdon!” Phil whispered over his shoulder, as the pilot noiselessly entered to dress himself in one of the many robes hanging about the room. While Phil slowly reduced the treasurer to a harmless state, the pilot made a hasty change, and as the lads had done, rolled his own clothes in a bundle, concealing them under his flowing robe. With articles of clothing the Americans silently bound and gagged the treasurer and laid his body away, hidden from the view of the casual observer entering the room; then the three proceeded to carry out the last and most trying stage of their perilous adventure. Phil leading, they arrived in sight of the outer gate. So far no guards had been met, but now with sinking heart Phil saw a large crowd gathered on the outside of the open gateway. Soldiers, their muskets in hand, stood stolidly on guard, while others sat on the ground, chattering volubly. Was this but the usual crowd always seen at the gates of a Chinese yamen--the poor awaiting crumbs from the rich man’s table? Overhead several oil lanterns shed their meagre light upon the assemblage. The score or more of Chinese would surely penetrate their disguise! He saw Langdon raise his hand with its flowing sleeve to his face, and quickly imitated the movement, nudging Sydney to do likewise.