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"Now, Yang-Po, a service: go and say to these Indians that I have, at their service, a brace of pistols and a double-barreled gun, which I know how to use." The Chinese departed sighing deeply, from a notion that the attack upon the Doctor might end in the pillage of his wares. I barricaded my door with the furniture of the room; I then loaded my weapons, and put out the lights.
I opened, and I saw, as pale as death, a Chinese, who kept a tea-store on the ground-floor of the same house. "What's the matter, Yang-Po?" "Save yourself, Doctor!" "And wherefore?" "Because the Indians will attack you this very night; they have decided upon it!" "Is it not your apprehension on account of your shop, Yang-Po?" "Oh, no! do not treat this matter lightly.
If you remain here you are doomed; you have struck an Indian, and his friends cry aloud for vengeance." The fears of Yang-Po were, I saw, too well-founded; but what could I do? To shut my door and await was the safest plan. "Thank you," said I to the Chinese; "thank you for your kind advice, but I shall remain here." "Remain here, Signor Doctor! Can you think of so doing?"
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