“Captain—Bartlet,” she whispered. She had no reason—yet—for the swift fear that raced along her nerves; but without stopping to reason what prompted her action, she stepped hurriedly out on the little porch and drew the front door softly to behind her. Then, her hands clenched at her sides to control their trembling, she lifted her head gallantly and looked the big captain in the face. “Did—didn’t Lis come with you?” she asked in a shaky little voice. Captain Bartlet cleared his throat twice before he answered her. “No, missy,” he said at last. “That’s why I came here to see Miss Charity first, before I see Lister’s mother.” He put a huge hand on Erica’s shoulder. “My dear, thee is going to be a brave little woman, isn’t thee, and help me?” Erica didn’t recognize her own voice when it came, it sounded so strained and lifeless, but she held it perfectly steady with all her young strength. “Please talk softly,” she said, and motioned over her shoulder to the house behind her. “Tommy’s in there, waiting for me. Tell me what’s happened—first. Lis isn’t—isn’t—_dead_?” She brought out the terrible word with an effort. The captain’s hand tightened comfortingly on her shoulder. “I hope not, my dear child. I trust not,” he said, hesitating, as if he were trying to pick and choose his words carefully. “But the truth is, missy, that I know nothing at all. Lis went ashore, our last night in Canton. I didn’t see him go, but Myrick, the first mate, told me later he’d gone ashore in the same boat with him. Then they parted. Lister wanted a final look at the city, and the mate had some business about the cargo to see to.” He paused, and Erica said, breathlessly, “Yes. And then——” “That’s the last we know,” Captain Bartlet replied, sorrowfully. “He didn’t come back to the ship that night, nor the next morning. He’d never stayed away like that before. It was strictly against the rules, and Lister was a good boy, steady as a clock.” “But——” Erica almost screamed it at him, forgetting Tommy for the moment—”you never sailed, and—and left Lis alone, lost, in China? You—oh, you must have searched for him, Captain Bartlet!” “Of course we searched, missy,” he said, quickly. “We put off our departure for the best part of a week and pretty near turned that bloomin’ old Chinese city upside down with our hunting. But there wasn’t a trace—not so much as a whisper. I even remembered that tale thee told me about a Chinese godfather who sent thee presents and whose seal thee drew for me in the flower pot that day. Doesn’t thee remember? I had seen that seal before, though the man it belonged to wasn’t named Sun Li.” “But—but he _is_,” Erica protested. “Why, my father knows him—oh, _very_ well!” “That may all be,” the other assented, gravely. “I found thy godfather, little Erica. He gave me an audience when I used thy name and thy father’s.” Erica caught her breath. “You—you _saw_ Sun Li? Oh, Captain Bartlet, who is he?”