Three days on the sea, and then came the first of the three Japanese harbours which I dreaded. The steamer ran peacefully into Nagasaki, and immediately a flood of custom-officers, policemen and detectives inundated the boat. The bell rang through the ship, and summoned passengers and crew for examination. And now the whole procedure started. The passengers were assembled in the saloon. Each was called by name; man, woman and child questioned by a commission consisting of police-officers and detectives; their papers closely examined; and they themselves overhauled by the Japanese doctor with regard to infectious diseases. Above all, they wanted to know which of them came from Kiao-Chow. The thirty-fifth name called was that of MacGarvin. Every one looked round, for, of course, no one had even seen him. Whereupon the ship’s surgeon approached, looked very serious, and whispered some dreadful news into the ear of his Japanese colleague. Some fifteen minutes later I heard a hum of many voices before my cabin. The door was carefully opened. In walked the American ship’s surgeon, and in his wake crept two Japanese police-officers and the Japanese doctor. The poor victim of ptomaine poisoning lay in a huddled heap, moaning softly, and with nothing to be seen of him but a crop of hair. The American came close to the bed and lightly touched my shoulder, which apparently called forth horrible pain. He immediately stepped back and whispered: “Oh, very ill, very ill!” The Japs, who had from the first contemplated the beautifully furnished cabin with shy admiration, seemed happy to get out of these unwonted surroundings. They kow-towed profoundly, hissed something through their teeth, which was meant to express particular deference, a softly murmured “Oh, I beg your pardon!” and the entire Yellow Peril disappeared from my sight. I believe that during this whole scene, and just before, I did feel a slight attack of the shivers—but it did not last. In the afternoon I risked getting up for a moment as I wanted to catch a glimpse of Nagasaki, which I already knew. But the sight that met my eyes sent me scuttling back to my bunk. The harbour was filled with countless steamers, richly festooned with flags. Extraordinary animation reigned aboard the ships; troops, horses and guns were being put ashore continuously. The soldiers were in gala attire, and the houses of the town nearly disappeared under the load of garlands and flags; a huge crowd flowed through the streets to the parade-ground, where a review was to be held. So these were the conquerors of Kiao-Chow!