“Where are your chairs?” Commander Ignacio continued; “you can hardly expect me to walk through the dirty streets of your ill-smelling city, even for the pleasure of seeing that young braggart tortured in true Chinese fashion. You see I am not entirely confident of you and your viceroy, so I have brought along a few companions;” he pointed toward the float, where eight or ten sailors had disembarked from the launch, rifles in hand. Phil’s tongue clove to the top of his mouth at the suddenness of their dilemma. What should he do? Ignacio had said too much now to cover his tracks, and his sailors would undoubtedly obey his orders, even to killing three innocent Americans in cold blood. “Come, what are we waiting for?” the foreigner added, grasping Phil’s arm, and turning him away from the river. “I don’t want to lose all my sleep; it’s nearly ten o’clock now.” Phil’s companions stood by speechless. Even Langdon with all his sang froid was at a loss what to do. To reveal their true character to their enemy would mean that at the least he would take them forcibly back to the viceroy. Phil at the Naval Academy had been declared a fine mimic and in the class minstrel shows he had to the delight of the brigade caricatured and impersonated each of the officers on duty at the school. Could he impersonate Ta-Ling? Was it possible to imitate his voice and the peculiar pronunciation of the English words? It was their only hope. Even if he failed, they could be no worse off. By a great effort he stilled the rapid heartbeats and brought his trembling voice under control. “I was detained by his Excellency the viceroy,” he began in a voice that startled even himself and made Langdon and Sydney fairly jump with surprise and glance hastily around for the owner of that despised voice; “but if you are now ready we can start. The chairs are up the street only a short distance.” Commander Ignacio voiced his willingness and the two men in the lead, followed by Sydney and the pilot, retraced their steps toward the gate of the walled city. “Send your men back to the ship,” Phil, stopping suddenly, said in the voice of Ta-Ling. “You know me well enough to know that I have no wish to harm you.” Commander Ignacio hesitated. Doubtless he felt safer with a few trusty sailors between himself and the treacherous Chinese. “Did you send my telegrams?” he asked quickly; “and have any come from Washington for that American pig?” “Yours were sent,” Phil answered promptly, “but the American captain has received none.” “Well, it will come, I’m sure, and then after he is disgraced, I shall be chosen as the leader of the allies,” the foreign captain said boastfully; “but you must keep your part of the contract and hold your people in check until I can get the credit of quelling the disturbance. Say a month before you kill these flat-chested missionaries.” “That was our agreement,” Phil replied; “now show that you have confidence in me and send your men aboard.”