Coming to a door, he let go his hold and knocked.
It was instantly opened by a very Chinese-looking Chinaman wearing a rich native dress.
The room was rather small, but well fitted up as a bed chamber, partly in Chinese and partly in American style. In the middle of the floor stood the box which was supposed to contain the Chinese princess.
"So you have come at last!" exclaimed the Chinaman in his own language. "I thought you never would."
"Patience, Wang Foo," replied the doctor. "We can't get there all in a moment."
"But the princess may die. She may be dead now. I believe it. She ought to have been released long ago."
"Patience, I tell you. I know my business. She is in no danger of death whatever."
"And the woman you were to bring to look after her. She must have an attendant. She is not to be ill treated. She is of my own blood."
"The woman is here."
"What, a white woman?"