He was conscious of her ready sympathy and of a wistful look in her eyes as she bade him good-bye.
Then the door opened, and the ambassador and Sydney stood upon the threshold.
“I was just coming for you,” Sydney exclaimed. “Phil has no idea of time, you know,” he added pointedly to the ambassador, who chuckled at the discomfiture of the pair.
“The Chinese ambassador was here this morning, and gave me this letter. He is very much disappointed at the thought of his friend Admiral Ting losing his command.” Mr. Tillotson as he spoke placed in Phil’s hand a large official document. The lad saw it was heavy and glanced inquiringly at the ambassador.
“The letter is inside, in its own envelope. My explanatory letter is there also. If you are in danger of capture destroy it, for it might cause much unpleasantness. Of course,” the ambassador added, “the Chinese ambassador knows nothing of the later developments in the case—only what I have told him, that America would like to be sure that the Chinese navy remains in China’s keeping.”
Phil placed the letter carefully within his pocket, and took the outstretched hand of Mr. Tillotson.
“I hope to welcome you back within a fortnight,” the latter said in an attempt to appear cheerful. “We shall miss you very much,” he added.
And then the carriage was off. The midshipmen waved their hands until the horses turned out through the gate, and the two figures became hidden behind the high wall of the enclosure.
It was nearly midnight before they arrived in Yokohama, but the ever-faithful O’Neil was awaiting them at the landing.
“Mr. Impey is waiting there in the launch,” the boatswain’s mate explained. “He’s dressed in one of my uniforms. The Japanese policemen are close on his trail. He seems very anxious to get to the ‘Alaska,’” he added.