Again Langdon’s voice was raised above the silence which followed the placid words of the interpreter: but this time in English.
“Those were not the viceroy’s words,” he exclaimed turning toward Commander Hughes but glowering at the discomfited interpreter; “his answer was a threat against our lives.”
Commander Hughes was on his feet instantly, his face pale with anger.
“Langdon,” he cried, “tell the viceroy that our meeting is ended; that we came to demand punishment for those of his countrymen who attempted to injure our mission on the hill back of the city, but as he refuses to keep to his country’s treaty, we shall be forced to resort to arms to protect our own people.”
Langdon promptly translated Commander Hughes’ words to the viceroy, sitting craftily observing the incensed foreigners.
Chang-Li-Hun was too clever a diplomat to show his hand was against the foreigners; he must appear to aid them in their endeavors to protect their countrymen, and by the art understood best by the Oriental he would make these naval men “lose face” in the Chinese eyes, and thereby show his people that the vainglorious boasting foreigners were but human, and could suffer and die as easily as those of their own race.
A few guttural words escaped from the lips of the aged mandarin, which Langdon translated at once, not waiting for the unreliable interpreter.
“The viceroy begs you will again be seated; he says he knows nothing of the acts against the mission.”
“Tell him, then, Langdon,” the American captain ordered, while the members of the embassy reluctantly took their seats; “and give it to him as strong as you can,” he continued his wrath but slightly mollified.
This was all too pleasant a task for the pilot, whose knowledge of Chinese officialdom had not left him with much respect for their roundabout methods. He went straight to the point, addressing the viceroy directly, while the latter appeared to listen eagerly.