HELD AS HOSTAGES
The Americans were speechless with amazement. Phil was confident that
he read triumph in the spiteful face of the foreign commander. Langdon
gazed with unfeigned disgust at the officer who had brought defeat
to the allies. This wily Chinaman would now refuse to interfere with
the unlawful acts of his subjects; trusting to the dissensions of the
allies to bring their punitive efforts to naught. All realized that
now even their own lives were in peril, and they were powerless to
interfere. Commander Ignacio was the appointed head of the embassy and
his decision was authoritative.
The Americans quickly learned the ill effects of the traitor’s words,
for the viceroy at once disregarded the pilot’s presence and in the
most insulting tone turned to his interpreter.
“His Excellency,” that Chinaman said upon the completion of the
viceroy’s ultimatum, “sees that the ranking officer has more
intelligence than his low-caste companions, and that as he has given
his promise that an apology will be made, his Excellency will at once
set him at liberty to return to his people. And his Excellency further
warns his compatriots that if the sailors are not withdrawn within
twenty-four hours to their ships, and if the fleet does not leave the
To-Yan Lake, that the lives of those held as hostages will pay the
penalty.”
Phil, throwing discretion to the winds, was upon his feet before the
interpreter had finished his threatening sentences.
“Commander Ignacio,” he exclaimed, beside himself with anger and
mortification, “can you not see what you have done? The viceroy offers
you your freedom; you must at once insist that we are under the sacred
protection of a flag of truce and that he has not the right to detain
us.”
“Are you then so anxious about your precious skin?” the foreigner
answered, an expression of intense dislike on his swarthy face.
The viceroy had risen, taking the arm of an assistant. He bowed
formally, and moved away toward his own apartments.
Langdon heard his parting instructions to his interpreter.
“Hold these American dogs and send the others back to their own people.
Let their commander tell them that when their sailors have ceased to
pollute Chinese soil then I shall treat with them. And to show my
displeasure at the attack of the foreigners upon our innocent people, I
shall hold these dogs as hostages.”
Realizing his helplessness, the pilot was silent, and he and the
midshipmen allowed themselves to be led away by the waiting guards.
Commander Ignacio gave Phil a look of triumph as he passed him, which
glance the lad returned proudly. Doubtless this despicable man believed
he had won a signal victory over the midshipman who had accused him of
cowardice before his own men.
The Americans were conducted to a room outside of the council-chamber
of the yamen. All were too crestfallen and disappointed with the turn
affairs had taken to care what their fate might be. Through the windows
of the room they saw the traitor and his four sailors pass along the
courtyard on the way back to the camp of the allies, and a few moments
afterward, their own sailors were brought and shoved roughly into the
room where their officers were held captive.
“If that villain,” Langdon exclaimed angrily, “had only kept quiet,
we should all have been returning by now. He played right into the
viceroy’s hands.”
“It is all my own doing,” Phil moaned. “Why didn’t I tell our captain
the kind of man he was?”
“What do you mean?” Sydney and Langdon asked in a breath.
Phil told of the attack on Lien-Chow and of the cowardly part Commander
Ignacio had played.
“Well, if that isn’t the queerest!” the pilot exclaimed after the
midshipman had finished; “Commander Hughes in my hearing complimented
him upon the fearless attack of his men; they were the first in the
enemy’s trenches after the Americans and English. And it was you that
put wings to their leader’s feet.”
The pilot’s laugh sounded so incongruous that the Chinese guards
glanced suspiciously inside, fearing that the handful of foreigners
might be planning some daring escape.
“I feel that it is my fault,” Phil repeated penitently. “I alone am
responsible for our captivity.”
“Cheer up, lad!” Langdon exclaimed. “It might be worse. The viceroy
will soon find that Commander Ignacio will not be supported. He will
not dare to hold us long.”
But the pilot, with his wide knowledge of the Chinese, did not know the
capacity for cruelty of this aged mandarin.
Even as the pilot spoke, the room filled with soldiers, who disarmed
the Americans, binding their hands behind them and attaching heavy
chains to their ankles. Langdon began to caution the sailors to submit
without resistance, but before he could give the advice a stalwart
sailor had picked up a heavy chair and floored the nearest of the
Chinese soldiers.
The sailors were quickly taken away, and after their work was
completed the guards withdrew, leaving the midshipmen and the pilot
bound upon the hard floor. The tight cords on their wrists cut cruelly
into the flesh.
Phil gave himself over to despair; he could see no way out of their
terrible predicament. Langdon, breathing heavily beside him, was
silent, while Sydney was speechless with anger and mortification.
After several minutes the interpreter entered their prison; his sallow
face betrayed not a spark of sympathy as he told Langdon to be prepared
to receive the sentence of punishment at the hands of the viceroy.
The pilot growled an answer in Chinese which caused the interpreter’s
face to show a shade of annoyance; then he answered in English,
glancing fiercely at his captives.
“We respect a flag of truce, but those who land on friendly soil and
attack innocent villagers are not entitled to its protection.”
Phil would have denied the Chinaman’s assertions, but the next second
he was roughly dragged to his feet, and with his companions, led into
the private apartments of the viceroy.
There the mandarin was seated comfortably in his chair of state,
enjoying hugely the discomfiture of the foreigners. One by one the
Americans were forced down upon their knees before the viceroy; the
guards zealously pulling the hair of the helpless ones as a caution to
obey quietly.
While Chang-Li-Hun spoke to Langdon in a low voice, the midshipmen
were held down on their knees, their heads bent forward, and as each
moved to ease his cramped limbs, the cruel hands of the soldiers would
inflict some new and painful torture to keep them motionless. The
strain was well-nigh unbearable; the body bending forward brought a
heavy and increasing strain on the wrist bindings.
“Your two companions being officers of a foreign navy under arms
on China’s soil, I have the right to hold them for punishment and
execution, if I so desire. You being but a civilian, if you will
apologize publicly I will set you free at once,” the viceroy said in a
conciliatory voice.
The pilot stoutly refused to accept his clemency.
“Would your commander really dare attempt to bombard my city?” the
mandarin continued curiously.
The severe pain at his wrists spurred Langdon on to picture blackly the
doom awaiting the self-satisfied and treacherous official.
“If you hold these officers captive, the American commander will not
rest until he has set them at liberty. If you harm a hair of their
heads he will raze your city to the ground and every shell will be
directed at this yamen. The inside of the wall will be as desolate as
that of your great city of Nanking after the Taiping rebels had sacked
it.”
The viceroy turned livid with uncontrolled rage. He spurned the bound
prisoner with his foot, while the soldiers, seeing the anger in their
master’s face, pulled the hair and beard of the helpless man.
Langdon was now beside himself. By a mighty effort, he bore back upon
the soldiers, his great strength scattering them with ease, and then he
raised his head and gazed full into the face of the viceroy.
“By holding us as hostages you are but signing your own death-warrant.
Our mission here was for your own good. Your people will suffer, but
the mandarins are those whom Commander Hughes desires to punish. You
know that if your city is destroyed by the foreign fleet you must
either commit suicide or falsify the reports to Peking which in time
will be discovered. If you liberate us at once and give your promise
that foreigners will be protected, even now you can redeem your action.”
Chang-Li-Hun could hardly believe his ears. He had never been talked to
so plainly in all his life. His mandarins stood near him, the scowls on
their outraged faces betokening evil for the helpless Americans.
Langdon was, at a motion from the viceroy, quickly restrained, and
struggling violently in the hands of numerous soldiers was borne out
of the council-chamber. The midshipmen’s guards were severe as they
dragged the unresisting lads from the presence of the viceroy.
“I fear I’ve made a worse muddle of it,” the pilot exclaimed dolefully,
after they were again alone in the room which for the present served
as their prison. Then he recounted to his companions what had passed
between him and the powerful mandarin.
“We can hope for no immediate relief from our people,” Phil declared
dejectedly. “Even though the allies condemn Ignacio’s actions and are
willing to aid in our release, they cannot storm the city by land from
Lien-Chow. First the fleet must pass through the fire of the forts.”
“There is one other chance,” Langdon replied hopefully. “The viceroy
is certainly acting without or perhaps even contrary to orders from
Peking. I could tell that by the anger in his face when I accused him
of it. His government is being kept in the dark. It knows nothing
of the conditions within his provinces. If the foreign ambassadors
in Peking have back-bone enough to insist upon knowing the state
of affairs, the throne will ask for reports, and Chang-Li-Hun, as
powerful as he is, must disclose his treachery. If these reports are
not satisfactory to the ambassadors and at the same time if sufficient
fear can be put into the emperor’s heart by intimidating him with the
threat of another sack of the capital by the foreign soldiers, then he
will send one of his trusted Manchu generals with an army at his back,
from a neighboring province. When once these soldiers have arrived in
front of the viceroy’s yamen then Chang-Li-Hun must acknowledge himself
beaten.”
“Meanwhile what is going to happen to us?” Sydney asked.
“Come, brace up, Syd,” cried Phil, trying hard to appear cheerful.
“We’ve been in as bad a place before. If our time has come, nothing
that we can say or do will stop it.”
“It isn’t that I am afraid of what’s going to happen,” Sydney exclaimed
in a hurt voice. “If they’d given us a show it wouldn’t have mattered;
but to violate a truce! That’s what makes me feel like tearing these
shackles off and throttling every Chinaman in sight, and to feel I
can’t makes me wish to use all the bad words that I know.”
Phil could barely suppress a laugh; Sydney had described his own
feeling more accurately than he could himself.
“We may just as well keep our tempers,” Phil replied philosophically.
“It only wastes one’s strength to get angry, and we’ll probably need
all the endurance we have before we are again with our own people.”
“Did the captain send any telegrams to the admiral or Washington about
the state of affairs?” Langdon asked suddenly.
“Yes, he sent one yesterday and one was given to the Chinese operator
in the concession this morning,” Phil replied. “The last one was a long
one and outlined what he intended doing, with his reasons. They were
all in cipher. I helped him prepare them.”
“They haven’t gone further than the viceroy’s waste paper basket,”
Langdon returned. “He will guard every outlet for news. Doubtless his
version of the actions of the foreigners will be wired, unless he sees
fit to remain silent.”
“How can he remain silent?” Sydney inquired. “The gunboats came here
believing that there was going to be trouble. Surely if the foreign
governments do not hear from their representatives they will be
suspicious.”
“It’s too deep for me this time,” Langdon declared. “The viceroy knows
what he’s doing; that I can assure you. History usually repeats
itself in these Chinese troubles, and he is probably banking on the
timidity of the foreign governments. If the plain unvarnished facts of
the attack on Lien-Chow got to Washington with no word from Commander
Hughes, what would happen? That is what Chang-Li-Hun is counting on.”
“The president would wire for particulars,” Phil answered.
“Yes, and he wouldn’t get them,” Langdon returned; “and then what would
happen?”
“I don’t know, but the viceroy believes he does and he hopes
that Washington will act in such a way as to give the victory to
Chang-Li-Hun.”
As the pilot’s voice died away, the predicament of himself and
companions came home forcibly to Phil. His arms and legs were swollen,
causing him great pain, and the thought of the further cruelty of those
who held them captives was not pleasant.
“Is there no way to escape?” the lad asked, glancing about the insecure
looking prison.
“We might succeed in getting out of the yamen,” Langdon answered
discouragingly, “but we could never expect to get out of the city.
There are but two gates, and both are heavily guarded at all times.
Once we are missed from here the news would travel with the speed of
wireless telegraphy throughout the city. No, we are as secure as if we
were on a desert island.”
“Can’t we bribe the guards?” Sydney asked, casting a contemptuous
glance at the ragged soldier at the door.
“What have we to bribe with?” Langdon asked mournfully. “I haven’t a
cent about me.”
“The green jade ring my grateful Chinaman gave me!” Phil exclaimed.
The Americans took heart at the thought of this priceless possession.
“Guard it carefully,” Langdon cautioned; “it may save us.”
“Does Commander Ignacio really believe,” Sydney asked suddenly, “that
Commander Hughes will apologize to the viceroy?”
“That traitor Ignacio knows that he will not!” Phil exclaimed angrily
at the thought of his treachery. “There’s more in this than we
understand. It’s a plot to defeat our captain, and he with only his
small force is powerless if the other nations side with this villain.
Our only hope is that the other foreigners will not stand for Ignacio’s
cowardly agreement.”
“Those in the mission,” Langdon said with alarm in his voice, “are in
a worse plight than ever. Unless Commander Hughes finds himself strong
enough to relieve the mission it will sooner or later be attacked; our
fifty sailors cannot withstand a long siege against the Chinese regular
troops.”
The more Phil speculated upon the situation the more perplexing it
seemed. Numbers of helpless foreign missionaries were scattered among
the cities of the provinces. Even now many might have been killed by
the lawless element. In the past many missionaries had been killed by
mobs stirred to violence by printed circulars sent out openly by the
mandarins. Would the firm stand of the foreigners deter the mandarins
from giving license to their people to destroy? Phil knew that this was
his captain’s hope.
Langdon’s voice interrupted the lad’s musings.
“We shall be separated,” he said dejectedly. “Please don’t be rash.
Remember the cruelty of these people. They might kill in a fit of
anger, even though your death was against their interests. Don’t expect
kind treatment. You will probably be liberated when our captain has
shown the viceroy that he is equal to his threats, but I am not an
officer and I know too much to suit that scheming interpreter.”
That the pilot despaired of his life was indeed disquieting news to the
midshipmen, but their solicitations were quickly cut short by the sound
of tramping feet in the hallway outside their prison door.
A number of armed soldiers entered the room and dragged the captives
roughly to their aching feet, hurrying them along the stone pavement up
the courtyard.
Phil saw ahead of him the unresisting Langdon, brutally kicked and
struck by his captors as he shuffled painfully along, then his own
guards turned down a corridor, dragging him after them.
Wondering what was about to happen Phil saw a soldier knock loudly upon
a door; a most unearthly yell from within was the only answer, then
the door opened inwards and he found himself shoved into the midst of a
crowd of half-naked Chinamen. His heart sank within him as he realized
that he was to be imprisoned along with the lowest of the criminals of
the viceroy’s provinces. But a moment later he could have cried out
for joy at the sight of Sydney thrown roughly almost into his arms.
At least he would have his friend to share his tortures; that was
something for which to be thankful.