“Getting up anchor! Stand by to go ahead! The foreign devils are all killed and we must go up-stream, beach the launch, and loot her.” The Chinaman in the engine-room, thinking one of his fellows was speaking, carried out his orders, and in a few moments the anchor was up and the steam launch moving down-stream towards Ping Tu. Shelford felt fairly confident now, but there still remained one danger, that of a pursuit in boats; and in the event of their running aground in the dark they would then be captured and—— Slowly the launch crept down the river with Shelford at the wheel, the missionaries sitting near in cowed silence, and everyone longing for the daylight and the passing of the weary night. Towards dawn one of the missionaries whispered to Shelford— “My wife feels very faint—the reaction, I suppose. Have you any spirits or wine on board?” “Good God! Is one of you a woman?” said Shelford. “Yes, there’s whisky in plenty in the cabin. Take her down and let her lie on the settee—and, padré, when you’ve given her some whisky you might bring me a peg and I’ll drink to the health of a brave woman. Forgive me for my seeming brutality, but I thought you were all men. Anyway I think we’ve all earned a drink, and you’ll also find some tins of biscuits in the locker.” Shelford’s further remarks to himself and the way in which he undeservedly accused himself for lack of feeling for a female in distress were fortunately inaudible and equally fortunately unpublishable. The whisky-and-soda and biscuits had a wonderful revivifying effect on the small party of Europeans, and now, as the steam launch crept slowly down the river, the first grey streaks of dawn began to appear. The married missionary and his wife were asleep on the settees in the cabin, the other missionary dozed in a cane chair near the wheel, and as the light increased Shelford recognised the land on either side and rang down to the engine-room for full speed ahead. In less than an hour of sunrise they were safe in Ping Tu. Friends came off to meet them, the missionaries were tenderly cared for by the ever hospitable people ashore, the two engine-room hands, to their great surprise, suddenly found themselves arrested for having been participators in the plot to kill the white men, and Shelford proceeded to the British Consul to make his report. A letter of protest was then sent to the obese and somnolent To Phat, but everyone knew that no reforms could take place in the town of Whang Chai till the return of the enlightened military officer, Hop Chu Tung, who was at present away. Shelford didn’t talk much in the Club, and the missionaries were too bewildered by their exciting few hours to give much of an account of what had happened, so the incident was soon lost in the more important event of the approaching races.