forever wrecked. But he brought the _Chen Yuen_ safely into Port
Arthur and the remnants of the fleet with her.

On account of his lack of health he resigned from the Chinese
service and returned to America. For two years he lived in New
York City, suffering in body without cessation the most exquisite
torture. During that time his letters to his family show only
tremendous courage. On the splintered, gaping deck of the _Chen
Yuen_, with the fires below it, and the shells bursting upon it, he
had shown to his Chinese crew the courage of the white man who
knew he was responsible for them and for the honor of their
country. But far greater and more difficult was the courage he
showed while alone in the dark sick-room, and in the private wards
of the hospitals.

In the letters he dictates from there he still is concerned only lest
those at home shall "worry"; he reassures them with falsehoods,
jokes at their fears; of the people he can see from the window of
the hospital tells them foolish stories; for a little boy who has been
kind he asks them to send him his Chinese postage stamps; he
plans a trip he will take with them when he is stronger, knowing he
never will be stronger. The doctors had urged upon him a certain
operation, and of it to a friend he wrote: "I know that I will have to
have a piece about three inches square cut out of my skull, and this
nerve cut off near the middle of the brain, as well as my eye taken
out (for a couple of hours only, provided it is not mislaid, and can
be found). Doctor ------ and his crowd show a bad memory for
failures. As a result of this operation others have told me--I forget
the percentage of deaths, which does not matter, but--that a large
percentage have become insane. And some lost their sight."