“Lieutenant,” he whispered, thoroughly frightened at the contemplation of what would become of him if he were captured, “the yacht is certain to fall into the hands of your fleet. It is now in sight, and a scout or armored cruiser has ordered us to approach. She will soon discover our real identity.” Takishima’s dejected countenance broke into a smile of great relief, but Impey was too impatient to allow him to dwell long upon this happy ending, to his keen disappointment and failure. “Your fleet cannot obtain the Chinese ships! That was possible only by intercepting them before they arrived at Singapore. The Chinese admiral’s orders were to wait at Singapore, and under no circumstances to issue forth without an order from the Wai-Wu-Pu. Your admiral cannot seize the ships in a neutral British port. England would not allow it.” Takishima gazed earnestly at the anxious man. He saw that he was in an agony of terror. “If you will promise to allow me to land safely at Singapore,” Impey continued, “I will guarantee that the Chinese ships receive orders to sail. The Japanese fleet can then intercept the squadron after it has passed through the Singapore Straits into the China Sea.” “And if I do not make this promise,” Takishima asked eagerly, “the Chinese ships will remain at anchor in Singapore?” “The Chinese squadron is due in Singapore in three days,” Impey explained anxiously. “To-day is the 16th; that will be the 19th. It is nearly fourteen hundred miles. Your fleet will need over four days to arrive there. Meanwhile the destination of the Japanese fleet must become known, and America will order her fleet in Manila Bay to proceed to Singapore. Once there, the exchange can be made even in a neutral port, because China has given her consent, which she refused to give to Japan.” Takishima was puzzled. Would Captain Inaba have set forth with so little chance of success? “I cannot make a promise until I am sure you will be true to your word,” the lieutenant said coldly. “How may we be sure that you can persuade the Chinese admiral to sail?” “I have prepared myself for just such an emergency,” Impey replied, proud of his duplicity even in his anxiety over his predicament. He drew out from his inner pocket a large envelope, a duplicate of the one he had given Phil. “Here is an order from the Wai-Wu-Pu to the Chinese admiral to turn his ships over to the Japanese fleet.” Takishima stretched out his hand eagerly, for he recognized distinctly the great yellow seal of the Dragon Kingdom, but Impey backed away, the document clutched tightly in his hand. “Your promise first; the word of a Samurai,” he cried earnestly, “and the paper is yours.”