As the launch stopped at the gangway of the war-ship Phil boldly ascended the ladder to the deck. There he found an officer awaiting him. “Commander Ignacio has sent me for a copy of the letter written by him yesterday to the viceroy. This letter has been lost in transit and he wishes to give his Excellency the copy.” Phil pronounced his words slowly, making his accent even broader than that used by the real Ta-Ling. “Will you wait?” the officer asked politely. “Commander Ignacio keeps his own papers. I shall endeavor to find it.” Phil bowed his willingness, and the foreign officer beckoning the quartermaster to follow with his lantern, the two disappeared within the cabin. The disguised midshipman saw the launch crawl slowly ahead, and a moment afterward his straining ear caught the indistinct sound of a body being lowered into the whale-boat tied at the boom of the gunboat. Then as the launch drifted almost imperceptibly back to its place at the ladder, the gleam of the lantern told him that the ship’s officers were returning. “Here is a package of letters marked for the viceroy,” the officer said as he emerged from the cabin; “but have you no written message from my captain?” Phil feared he had gone too far. He would like to hold the proofs of Commander Ignacio’s perfidy, but not at the risk of detection. “No, your captain gave me no letter,” he answered carelessly; “he supposed that Ta-Ling, the viceroy’s secretary, was well enough known; I am Ta-Ling, the viceroy’s secretary; but if you do not wish to trust me I shall return and get a letter from him. It will, however, displease both your commander and the viceroy.” The officer gave Phil a searching look, but apparently seeing nothing suspicious in his appearance, handed him the package. Phil was about to descend the ladder, when the officer, as if wishing to make amends for doubting the honesty of the Chinaman, stopped him by a motion of the hand. “There’s a Chinaman on board who came over in a sanpan, shortly after our captain left the ship. He had escaped from a mob ashore and asked our protection.” Phil held himself well in hand, fearing by undue interest he would jeopardize his cause. “Would you care to see him?” the officer continued. The midshipman nodded indifferently. “I must hurry,” he said; “my viceroy becomes very impatient if he is kept waiting.” An order was given to a sailor standing near and Phil saw the man go rapidly forward. The lad’s hopes ran high. Was it Emmons? A moment afterward Emmons was brought aft by the sailor messenger. The lantern was raised above the sailor’s head, shedding its light on the startled face of the half-breed. Phil regarded him with well-feigned loathing. “This man is an enemy of the viceroy,” Phil declared, in well simulated anger. “His escape would be a very serious matter. I can take him with me now if you will agree to trust him in my hands.”