Reaching the “Bund,” Nam-Sing pointed out the direction of the launch, which appeared to be their last chance for safety. Passing the waiting launch of Commander Ignacio, Phil glanced uneasily at the sailors; but they appeared to give them but passing notice. The midshipman saw Nam-Sing step aboard a black launch some hundred yards down the “Bund” from where their prisoner’s launch was lying. Phil directed that the bound foreigner be laid on the deck forward, then he watched impatiently the crew of the launch, under the guidance of the Chinese leading man, go to work with the usual Oriental industry. The lad saw at a glance that the engine and boiler were beyond patching; the machinery was a mass of twisted steel, while the boiler tubes were bent and wrenched from their sockets. Quickly uncoupling the useless engine from the propeller shaft, Nam-Sing directed the removal of the boards covering from view the small compact gas engine. With familiarity he tested out the spark circuit and examined the gear wheels, making sure all was right. After a delay of not more than ten minutes, although it seemed much more to the ever-increasing anxiety of the Americans, the Chinaman seized the crank lever, exerting his power to start the engine. The machine wheezed and sputtered. Again and again came the wheezing cough and when Phil was about to give up hope, it coughed volubly, then the smooth chug of the rapidly rotating engine struck joyfully on his ears. Langdon took his place at the wheel, while Phil motioned that all lines be cast off from the shore, and presently the launch moved slowly away from the dock out into the swift current of the river. “Head her for the starboard gangway of the ‘Albaque,’” Phil ordered in a calm voice, although his pulses were throbbing wildly. Langdon fairly jumped with surprise. “Why, man alive! What are you doing?” he exclaimed. In the gloom Phil almost smiled as he realized how odd his plan, without explanation, must seem to his companions. He spoke quietly, his manner calm, but decided. “We shall find a small boat in the water made fast to the lower swinging boom forward of the gangway. When we get alongside, I’ll go on board and give a message from their captain. While I’m on board you and Sydney move the launch ahead sufficiently to be able to drop the prisoner over the bow into the boat. Do it carefully and make no noise. He is securely bound and will lie there until the morning. By that time we shall, I hope, be safely out of his reach.” Langdon and Sydney could hardly control an expression of their enthusiasm at the conception of such a daring plan. Its very recklessness with Phil’s knack of mimicry would carry it safely through. A gruff hail in a foreign tongue came startlingly from the black hull of the gunboat, which the launch was slowly approaching. Phil waited a second for breath and then in the voice of the Chinese interpreter called across the water: “On the service of the viceroy.”