"Kiu-lien-cheng," explained the chief, in answer to Bob’s mute question. Bob remembered that this place had played an important part in the China war. It was, moreover, the scene of Kobo’s exploit, when his company had the honour of being first in the town. Beyond Kiu-lien-cheng on the river, but shut from sight by intervening hills, lay Antung, a place of bitter memories to Bob. Looking towards Wiju he could see small black moving bodies, which were no doubt companies or regiments moving about the town; and beyond it, he descried a long line of carts filing towards it from the north. He scanned the whole landscape with interest and care. The first great operation in the Japanese land campaign must obviously be the crossing of the Yalu; it would probably take place within the next few weeks, with the beginning of spring. Where would the decisive action be fought? If the Japanese army attempted to effect a crossing anywhere in the country outspread beneath him, they would have indeed a hard nut to crack. The rugged country to the north of the Yalu seemed to offer ideal conditions for defence, and Bob was convinced that the Russian engineers would have taken full advantage of the natural features. "A very strong position, Mr. Fawcett." The words so exactly corresponded with his unspoken thought that for a moment he was scarcely aware that they had been uttered by another. Then he turned with a start, saw that Ah-Sam and the chief had their rifles up and their fingers already at the triggers, and, following their upward gaze, noticed the figure of a short, sturdy Chinaman between two rocks above his head. Even as he looked Ah-Sam dropped his rifle and said something to Sing-Cheng, and with a second glance Bob understood. He went forward eagerly with outstretched hand. "Kobo San! You don’t know how glad I am to see you," he said warmly. "Are you all right? How in the world did you escape?" "I will tell you," replied Kobo. "But, pardon me, I am terribly hungry. Have you a little rice to spare?" "Ah-Sam," said Bob, "run back and ask Mrs. Pottle to prepare a meal for a friend of mine. You shall have something in five minutes. Upon my word, Kobo San, I am glad to see you. I hoped you had got away safely, but the uncertainty—" "You seem to know of my capture." "Ah! The tables are turned this time. I am only sorry you didn’t give me the chance to rescue you. But come, let me take you to the ladies. They will be delighted to see you." "Pardon me, did you say Mrs. Pottle?" "Yes; do you know her?" "She is at present the subject of diplomatic correspondence between the United States and Japan," said Kobo, with a smile. "She is the widow of Mr. Isidore G. Pottle, I presume; I knew him." "How strange! But come, you must be famished." Kobo walked slowly down the incline. Bob noticed that he limped. "Are you hurt, sir?" he asked. "A slight touch in one foot." "A sprain, perhaps. This is very rough walking."