“The letter is inside, in its own envelope. My explanatory letter is there also. If you are in danger of capture destroy it, for it might cause much unpleasantness. Of course,” the ambassador added, “the Chinese ambassador knows nothing of the later developments in the case--only what I have told him, that America would like to be sure that the Chinese navy remains in China’s keeping.” Phil placed the letter carefully within his pocket, and took the outstretched hand of Mr. Tillotson. “I hope to welcome you back within a fortnight,” the latter said in an attempt to appear cheerful. “We shall miss you very much,” he added. And then the carriage was off. The midshipmen waved their hands until the horses turned out through the gate, and the two figures became hidden behind the high wall of the enclosure. It was nearly midnight before they arrived in Yokohama, but the ever-faithful O’Neil was awaiting them at the landing. “Mr. Impey is waiting there in the launch,” the boatswain’s mate explained. “He’s dressed in one of my uniforms. The Japanese policemen are close on his trail. He seems very anxious to get to the ‘Alaska,’” he added. The midshipmen allowed O’Neil to relieve them of their valises, and entered the “Alaska’s” steam launch. They could hardly suppress a smile as they saw the discomfited Impey disguised in the uniform of an American sailorman. “To the ‘Sylvia’ first,” Phil ordered, after they had cleared the dock, and the launch, pitching lightly in the rising sea, steamed rapidly out toward the lights of the anchored ships. “I want you to come aboard and explain to your captain,” Phil said quietly as they reached the gangway of the yacht. They followed Impey up the ladder, while O’Neil and Marley, with the valises, brought up the rear. The storm predicted by O’Neil seemed about to be realized. The wind was steadily increasing, and a shower of rain came swiftly out of the night, shutting the launch off completely from the surrounding vessels. Phil laid his hand impulsively upon Impey’s arm to detain him. “You must go with us,” he declared. “We cannot appear in this except as passengers. We are all armed, you see,” he added, his revolver, which O’Neil had brought him, shining in his hand. “We are in deadly earnest, Mr. Impey,” advancing his gun so that the yacht owner could see it, “and your two conspirators are both with us.” Impey started perceptibly, and a look of fear came into his eyes, but the boldness of the midshipmen reassured him. With such men in command the expedition could hardly fail, and at all events he would be safely out of the reach of Japanese law. “We must sail at once!” Phil exclaimed, glancing into the heavy mist which had shut down over the bay. His hand still clasped Impey’s arm. “As you will, then,” the latter replied. The lads followed Impey to the bridge, where Captain Bailey, the yacht’s sailing-master, was awaiting orders.