Chapter 2

[image]"I came here on purpose to help you.""God bless you," said mother, fervently, and I saw her lips move, and knew that she was praying.Mr. Li was not a Christian, but he was so struck by mother's wonderful calmness, the peace in which she was kept when so many dreadful things were happening all round her, that he felt he could hold out no longer, and that very day he yielded his heart to Christ.By-and-by, Mr. Li said he thought it would be best for us to get away as soon as possible. He promised to do what he could to protect the house and the native Christians, and when we again spoke of father, he said he had seen him helping Daig Ong out at the back of the court-yard as he entered."I will find him," he added, "and will let him know that I have seen you, and he will soon overtake you."And so we went away. The others had started, and we hurried after them; but first mother made me put on the Chinese dress, and then, leaving the deafening sounds behind us, we crept on into the Mission-house. We were only just in time. As we left the room, which mother locked behind her, we heard someone trying the other door, and knew that it would not be long before they forced the lock, and then—Mother hurried me on through the Mission-house, carefully locking the doors behind us, on into the first house, where we saw poor Daig Ong. Mother stopped to say a few words to her, and then we passed on again; we dared not stay, for the rioters might guess at our escape and bring us back again. House after house we passed through safely, for the people in the village knew us and loved us, until at last we reached the road for Wei-hai-wei, and caught a glimpse of Nurse and the others on a-head. They were going very slowly, and we soon overtook them.CHAPTER V.A TERRIBLE WALK.Mother took baby Anna in her arms, and baby smiled and touched mother's face with her little hands, then looked up at the sky again with that solemn, wondering look of hers; and the next day, when the sun was setting, and its glory fell on her little upturned face, Jesus called her to Himself, and the angels carried her away from us to Heaven. It reminded me of a piece of poetry out of a book of mother's, called "Voices of Comfort." I learnt it by heart to repeat to father, and if I can remember it, I will write it down, because it is such a lovely piece:—They are going—only going—Jesus called them long ago!All the wintry time they're passing,Softly as the falling snow.When the violets in the spring-timeCatch the azure of the sky,They are carried out to slumberSweetly where the violets lie.They are going—only going—When with summer earth is drest,In their cold hand holding roses,Folded to each silent breast.When the autumn hangs red bannersOut above the harvest sheaves,They are going—ever going—Thick and fast, like falling leaves.All along the mighty agesAll adown the solemn time,They have taken up their homewardMarch to that serener clime,Where the watching, waiting angelsLead them from the shadow dim,To the brightness of His presence,Who hath called them unto Him.They are going—only going—Out of pain and into bliss,Out of sad and sinful weakness,Into perfect holiness.Snowy brows—no care shall shade them;Bright eyes—tears shall never dim;Rosy lips—no time shall fade them;Jesus called them unto Him.Little hearts for ever stainless,Little hands as pure as they,Little feet—by angels guidedNever a forbidden way.They are going—ever going—Leaving many a lonely spot;But 'tis Jesus who has called them;Suffer, and forbid them not!Rachel said baby Anna died because she thought it would be much nicer to go to Heaven than to Wei-hai-wei—but the little ones did not understand it at all, they seemed to imagine she was away on a visit. Tiny Tim said he hoped they would be kind to her where she had gone, and give her a lot of presents; and we all kissed her little white face—it looked like a flower somehow—and folded her sweet hands on her breast, and then the rest went on, all but mother and me, and we laid her gently down, strewing the earth lightly over her, and covering her little grave with flowers. Then we knelt beside her and prayed, and after a little time we walked on and overtook the others. Nurse said it was a good thing baby Anna died, because the poor little thing would have suffered so much, and I knew mother thought so too, but still she could not help quietly crying, because her arms were so very empty. I shall never forget that walk to Wei-hai-wei. Rachel thought it was great fun at first, and so did Jack and Jill. They liked wearing the Chinese dresses and doing no lessons, but they soon got tired of walking, especially Tiny Tim, who kept on calling out for father to come and carry him.The sun was very hot, but we were obliged to press on, we were so much afraid of being pursued and taken back again. Sometimes we would see a band of rioters coming, and have to leave the road and hide; and once we were overtaken, and the people looked at us very fiercely and called us "foreign devils." Tiny Tim was very frightened, and hid his face in mother's dress, and I thought we should be killed. Somehow I did not feel much fear. I remembered the talk I had with father, and Jesus was very near, and it seemed much better to go to Him and be at rest for ever than to be hungry and faint and tired, and to go through the pain of so many partings as we had gone through lately. But the Chinese did not kill us as they did so many of the missionaries. I think they were afraid to do so, as we were getting nearer every hour to places where English soldiers were; but they took away a great many of our clothes, and stole our money. Nurse had her money in her hand, and they beat her knuckles with a stick till she dropped it, and then they ran away laughing.When we got to the first village we asked to see the Mandarin, and told him how we had been treated; our clothes and money taken, and how were we to get on, and what should we do for food? But instead of helping us, he was very cruel indeed. He hated the Christians, and said he wished we had come yesterday, as then he would have killed us all, but now he had had orders, owing to the Empress being so merciful, not to do so, but just to send the "foreign devils" away. So he sent us on to the next village, and though we were tired and hungry yet we were glad to go, as he seemed so fierce and cruel. In the next village the Mandarin was kinder, and gave us a little rice to eat, but he said he could not keep us. This happened in all the villages through which we passed.Sometimes they would give us a little food, but they would not allow us to rest or give us any carts to ride in. They always took us outside the village, and then went away. Mother said afterwards it was because they were afraid of killing us, and yet they did not wish to have us with them. It was a weary, weary time, especially for the little ones, but through it all God never forsook us; indeed we seemed to be kept in constant communion with Him, and as we drew near to Wei-hai-wei a most wonderful thing happened.We were very weary, and sat down by the roadside to rest. The children said they could not walk a step farther, and though it was not, of course, quite safe to do so, yet we were so near a place of safety that mother made up her mind to rest there for the night. We went a little off the high road, to a place as much screened from observation as possible. Mother and Nurse sat down and made the little ones as comfortable as they could, and then, as we always did, we asked God to take care of us and be very present with us during the night. We had hardly gone off to sleep when we heard steps approaching Tramp, tramp, came the footsteps, nearer and nearer. I was wide awake in a moment, and my heart stood still, for, in the gathering darkness, I saw plainly a tall Chinaman approaching. He seemed to be alone, but this might not be the case. What if he were the leader of a band of Boxers! I did not mind so much for myself, but I could not bear to think of the others being tortured and killed. He looked terrible in the darkness as he came towards us. I did not know what to do. I only thought, in a wild kind of way, that I would go to him and ask him to take my life and not to waken the others. I could talk Chinese a little, and hoped to be able to make him understand. I got up quickly, without even disturbing mother—she was sleeping heavily, for sorrow, as the disciples of old—and as he strode over the ground which divided us I rushed up to him and put out my hands, and then I remembered nothing more till I heard a voice—a loved voice that I never thought to hear again in this world. I dreamed I was in Heaven with father, and he wore a Chinese dress, but when I came rather painfully back to earth again, the first thing I was conscious of was that I was in the arms of the tall Chinaman I had seen.[image]As he strode over the ground which divided us, I rushed up to him and put out my hands."Don't hurt them," I cried out in an agony, "kill me instead, but do not hurt them: they have suffered so much already.""Cicely, my darling, don't you know me?"The voice again. I was so weak and unnerved, or I should have recognized before my own precious father. I went off once more then, this time for joy and thankfulness, and woke to feel his strong arms round me, and knew that God was good, and that my pain was over. My care and anxiety was gone, for was not father with us again? Were not his arms round me?"Humanly speaking," said father, in answer to our breathless questions, "my escape is all owing to Mr. Li. He stood between me and what would probably have been a torturing death. I was struck down, and when they saw I was not dead, their rage knew no bounds—and that noble fellow defended me, and did what he could to protect our property till the Mandarin came. The Mandarin put me in prison, but Mr. Li rescued me, provided me with this dress, gave me food and money for the journey, brought me on my way, and here I am. I often thought of Onesiphorus. 'He oft refreshed me, and was not ashamed of my chain.' Thank God! Our loss has been his unspeakable gain. He told me last Tuesday night that he could hold out no longer. He was full of wonder at the peace in which we were kept whilst death was so near and our property was being destroyed, and especially at your calmness, my darling. Under God it was just the touch that was required. He yielded then and there, and gave himself to Christ. He is anxious to make a public profession of his faith by being baptized as soon as ever the opportunity occurs. He will make a splendid Christian, for he has counted the cost and found Christ worthy.""Thank God," said mother, fervently, "this one soul saved is worth all the pain.""I knew you would feel like this, Christine. The Lord has been very good to him and to us. He has brought us all together again. We are all here, are we not, dear wife?"Mother did not answer, but I saw her bosom heave. Father looked round anxiously, and the tears slowly welled into his eyes. He put his arm round mother."It is all right, Christine," I heard him whisper. "He knows best. She has been saved so much pain. When was it, my dearest?""Last Wednesday, Paul.""And to-day is Friday. Three days in heaven beholding the face of the Father. Let us thank Him, dear wife, for this also."We all knelt down upon the grass, and after that I heard father and mother talking far on into the night, and, looking up, I saw God's stars in His sky, and felt how very near He was, and then I went to sleep, and the next day, towards evening, we met some English soldiers and arrived at Wei-hai-wei.CHAPTER VI.NINA'S STORY.I promised my cousin Cicely St. John that I would write a little history of what took place after we were separated from one another. She is going to do the same; and then some day when we go back to England we shall get it all put together and have it published in one big book. It has always been my ambition to write a book, and I am quite sure that I can write. People all have their particular gifts—writing is one of mine. I was not very good when I was at school, but I never found the essays any trouble at all. And when I was fourteen I got a five-shilling prize in a magazine, and my story was published in the Christmas number. It was illustrated, and the picture in the place of honour on the cover. I was so delighted about it and so was father, but then he always does love everything I do. People say he spoils me, and perhaps he does; all I can say is, it is very nice being spoilt! I am always happier when I am with father and his friends than with girls of my own age.I never cared much for girls; the little ones talk about their dolls and the big ones about their clothes. I like hearing father and his brother officers talk and tell tales of sport and adventure. Of course I know father would have liked me to have been a boy. He must have been disappointed, though he never said so, because then I should have been a soldier like he is, and gone to the war in South Africa, or perhaps have been here in Pekin, just as we are now.It is a month since we came to the Celestial City, and such a long time since I stayed with Uncle Paul and Aunt Christine. We went to them when we first came out to China. I had never seen them in my life before.[image]The Pagoda at Pekin.Cicely is different from other girls, and I love her dearly. She is much younger than I am, two years younger, but she seems almost as old. She is so grave and a little old-fashioned; somehow I feel better when I am with her and Uncle Paul—they make me want to be good. I often wonder where they are, and hope things are not as bad for them as they are with us, for here in the Celestial City things look very black indeed. Father wishes he had left me behind in Wei-hai-wei, but I would much rather be with him, even though the worst comes and he has to kill me himself. Uncle Paul thinks one ought not to do this, but then Uncle Paul is an angel. When I am with him I feel all the time a longing after something better. I told Mrs. Ross about him. Mrs. Ross is my great friend here. She is young and very pretty, and she met Uncle Paul once. When I told her what he made me feel like, she said, "Yes, I know, dear, he makes you feel as if you didn't care how your frock fitted, but when you get away you think to yourself you may as well look as nice as you can." Mrs. Ross has only been married a few months. She came here just after her honeymoon. She has the most wonderful eyes I have ever seen, like the stars in the soft, dark sky. She and I and nearly always together, though she is years older than I am. Still she says she is very glad to have me for her friend, as there are so few girls out here. Captain Ross looks stern and troubled, and very careworn, but all the men have that expression now, and if only you saw the faces of the Chinese you would not wonder much; they are so dreadfully cruel and revengeful, and they look at us as if they hate us and would like to murder us all. If they killed people outright it would not be so dreadful; but they torture a person for days first; they do this to their own people, how much more then to us, if they had us in their power?It is the cruel Empress who hates the foreigners, and it is her emissaries who have stirred up the people against us. The Boxers are her tools really, and the ignorant people are told all kinds of things which they believe, that the Europeans take their little children and kill them, and that it is our presence here which causes the lack of rain, and then they pretend to see most wonderful apparitions, those who appear always bearing the same message, "Kill! kill!" The other day they declared that a marvellous vision appeared in the sky; it was a spirit girl, they said, with a lamp in her hand. Father and I went out to see it, but of course we did not see the girl, but only a brilliant light in the sky, and the Chinese, who are very superstitious, imagined the rest. But what caused more stir and alarm than anything else was the mysterious Red Hand which suddenly appeared in Pekin. Mrs. Ross and I saw it on a house one day, and then again on another, and as the people caught sight of these dreadful Red Hands they gesticulated wildly, and seemed terribly excited. Mrs. Ross was very frightened, as she thought it meant that the Boxers were going to kill all the inmates of the houses on which the Red Hand appeared, but Captain Ross said he had been told by someone who knew that we, the foreign devils, were accused of marking the houses, and wherever this dreadful mark appeared a curse was sure to follow; in seven days one of the inmates would go mad, or in fourteen days they would die. This was just before a most dreadful event occurred.CHAPTER VII.A PAINFUL DISCOVERY.Several days passed by. One gets accustomed to everything, and we were getting used to the big fires at night and all the mysterious warnings we had had, and I was getting very tired of not being able to run about as in the old days before we came to Pekin. It was a lovely morning, and I made up my mind to go round and see my friend, Mrs. Ross. I was allowed to go and see Mrs. Ross, but when there I was never supposed to be out of her sight. Father was busy when I left, so I did not see him, but Phoebe, our old servant, followed me with a great many injunctions and warnings—at which, I am sorry to say, I only laughed. The sunshine seemed to intoxicate me—I revelled in it—I could no longer feel any fear; afterwards I thought I must have been mad that morning. I turned round in the middle of my flight down the path which led to the house in which Captain and Mrs. Ross lived."Phoebe," I cried, shaking back my curls, which, somehow, always would come tumbling about my face, "Phoebe, you may depend upon it the Chinese are not nearly so black as they're painted; anyway, black or yellow, or whatever they are, it's a lovely day, and I'm going to enjoy myself.""And what am I to tell your pa, Miss Nina?""Oh, tell him anything you like—why, tell him the truth to be sure—that I've gone to spend the morning with Mrs. Ross.""Miss Nina, I don't like the looks of you this morning. When your eyes are as if there was little imps a-dancing in 'em, then I looks out for squalls.""Thank you, Phoebe," I said, laughing and making her a mocking curtsey. "My eyes feel very flattered, I can assure you.""Oh, they're well enough, and bright enough," she replied, grudgingly, "but I should like to see a bit more soberness about them; why, when I was your age, miss, I was married. Mr. Larkins—"Poor man," I ejaculated under my breath.Phoebe did not hear; she was lost in reminiscences of the past."Poor, dear Mr. Larkins, he were took quite sudden like; his mother died of heart complaint, and yet I never thought to say to Larkins, 'Who knows, my dear, but you might be took the same yourself, one day.'""I should think not, Phoebe; it would have made poor Mr. Larkins very uncomfortable if you had. I daresay," I added, under my breath, "he was none too happy as it was," but, like all deaf people, the very thing I did not mean her to hear she heard at once, and turned upon me angrily."Not happy, miss! As happy as the day was long was Mr. Larkins, and a deal happier if the days be these here days in China.""Oh, Phoebe, the day is bright enough; there is nothing wrong with that.""The day is all right for them as wasn't kept awake all night by those bloodthirsty villains.""I heard nothing, Phoebe; I was asleep.""It's all very well for them as can sleep; but, there, you're only a child, after all.""Why, Phoebe, you said a minute ago that I was old enough to be married," and with this parting shot I ran away.Poor old Phoebe; our troubles pressed sore upon her. I had never seen her so put out before. She had been in our family for forty years, and was, therefore, privileged to be very disagreeable sometimes. As I ran down the path I met Mr. Crawford; he saluted, hesitated, and finally stopped short."Whither away, Miss Nina?"He had such a kind, honest face, one of those you feel instinctively you can trust."I am going to see Mrs. Ross.""All by yourself? Pardon me, does the Colonel know of your intention?""Oh, yes—that is, I don't know; father was out when I left, but Phoebe saw me go, and I had to listen to lectures yards long. I hope," I added, saucily, "that I shall not have to listen to any more."His boyish face had grown quite grave, his honest eyes had a look of apprehension in them, but he spoke lightly."I see you are a very determined young lady, but perhaps you will allow me to accompany you so far; then, when I have seen you safe in Mrs. Ross's hands, I can make my report to the Colonel and set his mind at rest.""Oh, you can come if you like," I replied, grandly. I was accustomed to have a great deal of attention; indeed, I could not have received much more had I been a little princess. "One would think I was the most precious thing in the world.""Well, are you not?" he asked, gravely."It depends what precious means," I replied, sapiently. "If it means very good, I am afraid I am not that—at least, not half so good as Cicely.""Who is Cicely?""Cicely St. John; she is my cousin; she is altogether lovely," I cried, with enthusiasm, "and so is Uncle Paul; he is a missionary out here at Chen-si.""A missionary—and at Chen-si—then God help him!"He said the last under his breath, but I heard him."Oh, Mr. Crawford," I cried, earnestly, for I love Uncle Paul dearly, "you do not think he is in danger?""I should think he probably left, Miss Nina, before the troubles began, and you know," reassuringly, "'Ill news flies apace,' so that, as you have heard nothing to the contrary, you may take it for granted he is all right."We had got to the end of our walk now, but he opened the gate for me, and still lingered."I want to know that you are quite safe," he said, smiling. "You see what a gaoler I am. Ah, there is Mrs. Ross."I ran to her and kissed her joyfully."Nina, darling, how delightful; come to spend a long day with me, I hope?""I should like to," I replied, "if Mr. Crawford will let father know.""Your obedient slave, Miss Nina; I will be sure to acquaint the Colonel, and now I must be going.""Won't you come in, Mr. Crawford?" said Mrs. Ross."I fear I cannot," he replied. "I have to report myself at headquarters. I was on guard last night.""Any fresh news?" asked Mrs. Ross."Nothing but the usual story of the last few days. They have been firing a lot more houses, and the visions and apparitions are as numerous as ever.""And the Red Hand?" asked Mrs. Ross, shuddering."Oh, we have got quite accustomed to it by this time," he replied.He spoke lightly to reassure us, but it was easy to detect a vein of apprehensiveness behind his light tone.Mrs. Ross looked pensive, and this pensive look added to her beauty and made her entrancing."Well, Nina," she said, when we were alone, "what would you like to do this morning?""Anything you like, darling," I replied, eagerly. "I am so tired of doing nothing and sitting in all day. I know what I should like," I cried, excitedly; "I should like to go into the park.""The park?" said Mrs. Ross, turning her liquid gaze to the window. "Yes, it looks inviting this morning. I wonder if we could. I fear George would not like it—he can't bear me to leave the house; but, really, everything seems very quiet this morning, I don't see why we shouldn't go a little way. One does get so tired, as you say, of sitting in the house. It seems strange," she added, smiling, "the park being such an excitement to us. It was positively none when we could go any day, but 'Circumstances alter cases,' to quote a very trite proverb, and I fear you and I, Nina, are very human, and share the universal longing for what is out of reach.""Yes. Do you know," I replied, laughing, "father never will forbid me anything, because he says he knows I should want to do it immediately?""What a character you are giving yourself," smiling. "At any rate you are true; and, if you loved, you would be easily guided.""Yes, that is it," I cried. "I would do anything for love's sake; I love father, and so I would not hurt him for the world; his wishes are my law.""Do you know," said Mrs. Ross, turning her lovely eyes on me with a new expression in their depths, "without meaning it, you have exactly described the relationship which exists between the renewed soul and the Father? I shall never forget that sermon your uncle preached on that subject. 'And because ye are sons, God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father.' I don't know what makes me tell you this, but I have never felt the same since that day.""No one ever does feel the same after meeting Uncle Paul; but the worst of it is I get so naughty again when I am away from him.""So very, very naughty," she said, playfully, "and this is one of your wicked deeds I fear, and I am aiding and abetting you.""You darling," I said, fondly, locking my arms in hers, "I don't know what I should have done in this place without you; and what a nice morning this is, and how pleasant it is here under the trees.""Yes, but we had better keep the house in view; you see I have the caution which comes with age!"And so we strolled on under the trees, and forgot our troubles for one short morning. The air seemed deliciously sweet and fresh, though, a few days later, it grew unbearably hot. We were just thinking of returning to the house when in the distance I saw a curious object on the ground; it lay under the trees about 200 yards away, and nothing would content me but that I must go and find out what it was. In vain Mrs. Ross expostulated, and pointed out the danger of going so far and getting out of touch with the houses; the spirit of mischief prompted me, and I ran away laughing. Lilian followed, entreating me to stop, but, I am sorry to say, the more excited she grew the more I laughed and the faster I ran—on and on, until I got quite close to the object which had excited my curiosity. Judge of my horror when, on looking down, I found it was one of our own soldiers lying there, dead; he had evidently been murdered by the Boxers.I felt sobered in a moment. The beauty of the day had gone, and the sun seemed cruel now, as it blazed pitilessly down on the man's white, upturned face. I recognized him at once, for he had been for years in my father's regiment, and was a great favourite with us all.And now he lay there in the bright sunshine, dead. I knelt by his side, quite forgetting the danger we were in, until Lilian Ross came up and almost dragged me away."Nina," she said, "you must be mad; come back with me this instant. We are out of sight of home, and any moment we may be stopped."I rose sobbing, and quite subdued now, prepared to follow her quietly, feeling indifferent to everything. It was too late. As we retraced our steps, we heard wild shouting and cries, that awful cry that woke the stillness of the night—"Kill, kill."Lilian turned as white as snow. I realized that it was through my rashness; we were probably doomed to a cruel death. I felt it keenly, because I saw that I had sacrificed Lilian as well as myself, but she never reproached me."Nina," she whispered, hurriedly, "have you got your satchet with you?"The fear in her lovely eyes was reflected, I know, in mine."Yes," I said, fumbling with my hand in the bosom of my dress, "it is here.""That is right, we may need it. I do not fear death, not since I met Mr. St. John; but torture—" and she shuddered."Oh, Lilian, and I have brought you to this. I shall never forgive myself—never.""You did not mean it, darling.""No, but it comes to the same thing.""It may be possible for us to escape, even now; let us take this turn, Nina, it will lead us round by the other entrance."The horrid sounds were coming nearer—we turned to flee, but it was too late. They caught a glimpse of us as we disappeared, and with wild, horrible cries they came rushing after us. A sensation of cruel fear—the knowledge that certain death stared us in the face—a quick review, as in a mirror, of all my past life—an agonized prayer for help, a sickening sensation of pain—and then a blank. And then——CHAPTER VIII.TAKEN PRISONER.I was in a vast hall, and Lilian Ross stood by my side. How we got there I did not know, I only knew that we were there and still alive, that death was yet to come. At the other end of the hall, upon a kind of red dais, stood a man. I suppose he was a man, but he appeared to me to be more like a personation of the evil one, he had such a cruel, wicked face; and, as he sat glowering there, he looked as if he would like to devour us, so great was his hatred and wrath. One or two men were near him, but, for the most part, they stood in a vast circle, leaving a clear space in the centre for us, and, as they glared at us, they brandished their spears and shrieked for our blood. They seemed more like wild beasts than men. Then one who stood near the throne began to gesticulate, and brandish his horrid, blood-stained spear, but the man on the raised dais smiled. His smile was worse than the other's fury, and then he said a few words. I could not understand it all, but I knew enough of Chinese to guess that we were to die a lingering death of agony. The implements of torture were all round us, and these men thirsted for our blood; indeed, they seemed to be mad with the lust for blood; but there were preliminaries to be gone through; they would not touch us until they had performed their horrid ceremonies. Waving their hands and brandishing their spears, they seemed to be mingling in some kind of weird dance.In the centre was a blood-stained stone, and, as they sang, they bowed down until their spears touched this stone. They seemed by these terrible orgies to be working themselves up to a still greater pitch of fury. Every moment I expected to be our last, for it seemed as if they would not be able much longer to restrain themselves, but would tear us to pieces in their fury.I closed my eyes and shuddered. We clung to each other and tried to pray. Then I found out that they were speaking to us. I could not understand all that they said, but I understood enough to know that they wished us to abjure our religion. We were to deny Christ, and fall down and worship their horrible idols. If we did this, they promised us our lives. It was a deadly temptation. Lilian thought of her husband, and I thought of father; and we were young, and life was sweet, and it was so horrible to die without saying good-bye to anyone. Perhaps people in England will wonder and blame us that it was a temptation to us at all, but I heard Uncle Paul say once that temptation was not sin: that it only becomes sin when we yield. They say that times of great persecution are times of decision, too. I had not cared much for Christ in the old days; I had not been like Uncle Paul or Cicely—I had been careless and thoughtless; but now, with a cruel death staring me in the face, now, I chose Him. I turned to Lilian. "Christ for me," I said, in reply to her questioning look, and all my heart seemed on fire and my soul to be full of love. Lilian had made the choice also—I read the answer on her face before she spoke. Terribly frightened as I was, I gazed at her in the keenest admiration; her beautiful hair had become loosened, and now fell over her shoulders in a mass of gold; her lovely starlight eyes, pure and steadfast as those of any pictured saint, were fixed on our persecutors."Nina," she said to me in a whisper, "I do not know whether they would allow us to take that poison, but even if it were possible I think it would be better not to do so. We are in God's hands, and they cannot touch a hair of our heads until He gives them permission.""Yes," I replied, "I agree with you—it's difficult, of course, to know if a thing is right or wrong now, but Uncle Paul would not have done it. I will follow him."They seemed to be making some horrid preparations at the other end of the room—our time had come; we felt that and prepared to die. It's all very well to read about these things in a story, but unless you have passed through it yourself, you can have no idea of the horror and fear and deadly anticipation of coming woe which we felt. I was positively sick with terror, but I also felt full of an overwhelming love—I knew that Christ was worth all and more than all.I whispered to Lilian that it would soon be over, and a text came running into my mind, "Our light affliction which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory."They seemed to have completed their preparations now, and came toward us with horrid cries."Oh, Lilian, do pray that we may be kept.""Yes, yes, darling, it will soon be over, and then the glory."I just remember that—I know they seized us; they tore us away from each other. And then I can recall nothing but some awful place of pain—a place of confusion and horrible noise and terrible suffering and then a blank, which seemed to last for years and years—then Lilian's voice, very faint, very far away—then a little nearer, a little louder."Are you better, darling?""Yes" (my voice was so weak, I could hardly hear it myself), "have I been ill?""Very, very ill, but you are better now, thank God, thank God.""Where are we, Lilian?""In a kind of a cave at the back of a house.""But how did we get here, I want to know all about it.""I wonder if you are strong enough to hear more now?""Yes, yes," I cried, feverishly; "it will make me much worse not to know.""Well," she replied, soothingly, "I think it would, and you must not agitate yourself. Now I will give you a cooling draught, and then you must lie quite still, and I will tell you everything.""You won't hide anything, will you? I want to know what happened after that dreadful torture," and I shuddered."You were not tortured, darling; what their intentions were I do not know. I think they did mean to put us to a cruel death, but God is over all and prevented it.""But why have I been ill then, Lilian? I am sure I could not have fancied it all.""My poor darling, you had a dreadful blow—they pushed us so violently apart that you fell with your head against that platform; it was a horrid cut, but it is healing up nicely now.""Then what happened?""Well, the sight of your blood, instead of calling forth their compassion, only seemed to infuriate them, and as I knelt beside you and tried to staunch the blood, I thought all was lost; but just at that moment a wonderful thing happened: I heard a great noise at the far end of the hall—two men had entered, and one of them was violently gesticulating. It appears that enormous rewards have been promised for our discovery, and this man had undertaken to find us. I could not make out what they said, but, no doubt, you would have been able to do so. The other man, who was scholarly and refined-looking, and altogether of a different type, seemed for some reason or other to have great influence with them. He did not say much, but when he did speak they listened, and gradually they ceased to brandish their spears, and after what seemed an eternity to me, I saw that they had given up the idea of murdering us, at any rate for the present. What arguments these men used, of course, I do not know, but anything like the expression of concentrated disappointment and rage on the faces of those who would have killed us, I have never seen. It makes me shudder to think of it now. An order was then given, and we, or rather, I was marched off, for you, poor darling, were past marching or doing anything. The two strange men picked you up, not un-gently, and we moved off; it seemed to me along, long way. Then there was another altercation, but at last it was decided that we should be taken to this house, and here we have been ever since. These two men guard us; if you look through the room opening out of this into the courtyard, you will see one of them standing there now. I do not know what their intentions are, but I conclude they are friendly—at any rate, we have not been molested by the Boxers since that terrible morning; and they have been kind and attentive in bringing us food; and once, when you were very ill, they brought a Chinese doctor to see you. I think we must either be outside or else very near the walls of the city; at any rate, it's a long, long way from the Legation. Now that you are better and can speak you will be able to talk to them; my great difficulty has been that understanding the language so little I have not been able to converse with them at all."

[image]"I came here on purpose to help you."

[image]

"I came here on purpose to help you."

"God bless you," said mother, fervently, and I saw her lips move, and knew that she was praying.

Mr. Li was not a Christian, but he was so struck by mother's wonderful calmness, the peace in which she was kept when so many dreadful things were happening all round her, that he felt he could hold out no longer, and that very day he yielded his heart to Christ.

By-and-by, Mr. Li said he thought it would be best for us to get away as soon as possible. He promised to do what he could to protect the house and the native Christians, and when we again spoke of father, he said he had seen him helping Daig Ong out at the back of the court-yard as he entered.

"I will find him," he added, "and will let him know that I have seen you, and he will soon overtake you."

And so we went away. The others had started, and we hurried after them; but first mother made me put on the Chinese dress, and then, leaving the deafening sounds behind us, we crept on into the Mission-house. We were only just in time. As we left the room, which mother locked behind her, we heard someone trying the other door, and knew that it would not be long before they forced the lock, and then—

Mother hurried me on through the Mission-house, carefully locking the doors behind us, on into the first house, where we saw poor Daig Ong. Mother stopped to say a few words to her, and then we passed on again; we dared not stay, for the rioters might guess at our escape and bring us back again. House after house we passed through safely, for the people in the village knew us and loved us, until at last we reached the road for Wei-hai-wei, and caught a glimpse of Nurse and the others on a-head. They were going very slowly, and we soon overtook them.

CHAPTER V.

A TERRIBLE WALK.

Mother took baby Anna in her arms, and baby smiled and touched mother's face with her little hands, then looked up at the sky again with that solemn, wondering look of hers; and the next day, when the sun was setting, and its glory fell on her little upturned face, Jesus called her to Himself, and the angels carried her away from us to Heaven. It reminded me of a piece of poetry out of a book of mother's, called "Voices of Comfort." I learnt it by heart to repeat to father, and if I can remember it, I will write it down, because it is such a lovely piece:—

They are going—only going—Jesus called them long ago!All the wintry time they're passing,Softly as the falling snow.When the violets in the spring-timeCatch the azure of the sky,They are carried out to slumberSweetly where the violets lie.They are going—only going—When with summer earth is drest,In their cold hand holding roses,Folded to each silent breast.When the autumn hangs red bannersOut above the harvest sheaves,They are going—ever going—Thick and fast, like falling leaves.All along the mighty agesAll adown the solemn time,They have taken up their homewardMarch to that serener clime,Where the watching, waiting angelsLead them from the shadow dim,To the brightness of His presence,Who hath called them unto Him.They are going—only going—Out of pain and into bliss,Out of sad and sinful weakness,Into perfect holiness.Snowy brows—no care shall shade them;Bright eyes—tears shall never dim;Rosy lips—no time shall fade them;Jesus called them unto Him.Little hearts for ever stainless,Little hands as pure as they,Little feet—by angels guidedNever a forbidden way.They are going—ever going—Leaving many a lonely spot;But 'tis Jesus who has called them;Suffer, and forbid them not!

They are going—only going—Jesus called them long ago!All the wintry time they're passing,Softly as the falling snow.

They are going—only going—

Jesus called them long ago!

All the wintry time they're passing,

Softly as the falling snow.

When the violets in the spring-timeCatch the azure of the sky,They are carried out to slumberSweetly where the violets lie.

When the violets in the spring-time

Catch the azure of the sky,

They are carried out to slumber

Sweetly where the violets lie.

They are going—only going—When with summer earth is drest,In their cold hand holding roses,Folded to each silent breast.

They are going—only going—

When with summer earth is drest,

In their cold hand holding roses,

Folded to each silent breast.

When the autumn hangs red bannersOut above the harvest sheaves,They are going—ever going—Thick and fast, like falling leaves.

When the autumn hangs red banners

Out above the harvest sheaves,

They are going—ever going—

Thick and fast, like falling leaves.

All along the mighty agesAll adown the solemn time,They have taken up their homewardMarch to that serener clime,

All along the mighty ages

All adown the solemn time,

They have taken up their homeward

March to that serener clime,

Where the watching, waiting angelsLead them from the shadow dim,To the brightness of His presence,Who hath called them unto Him.

Where the watching, waiting angels

Lead them from the shadow dim,

To the brightness of His presence,

Who hath called them unto Him.

They are going—only going—Out of pain and into bliss,Out of sad and sinful weakness,Into perfect holiness.

They are going—only going—

Out of pain and into bliss,

Out of sad and sinful weakness,

Into perfect holiness.

Snowy brows—no care shall shade them;Bright eyes—tears shall never dim;Rosy lips—no time shall fade them;Jesus called them unto Him.

Snowy brows—no care shall shade them;

Bright eyes—tears shall never dim;

Rosy lips—no time shall fade them;

Jesus called them unto Him.

Little hearts for ever stainless,Little hands as pure as they,Little feet—by angels guidedNever a forbidden way.

Little hearts for ever stainless,

Little hands as pure as they,

Little feet—by angels guided

Never a forbidden way.

They are going—ever going—Leaving many a lonely spot;But 'tis Jesus who has called them;Suffer, and forbid them not!

They are going—ever going—

Leaving many a lonely spot;

But 'tis Jesus who has called them;

Suffer, and forbid them not!

Rachel said baby Anna died because she thought it would be much nicer to go to Heaven than to Wei-hai-wei—but the little ones did not understand it at all, they seemed to imagine she was away on a visit. Tiny Tim said he hoped they would be kind to her where she had gone, and give her a lot of presents; and we all kissed her little white face—it looked like a flower somehow—and folded her sweet hands on her breast, and then the rest went on, all but mother and me, and we laid her gently down, strewing the earth lightly over her, and covering her little grave with flowers. Then we knelt beside her and prayed, and after a little time we walked on and overtook the others. Nurse said it was a good thing baby Anna died, because the poor little thing would have suffered so much, and I knew mother thought so too, but still she could not help quietly crying, because her arms were so very empty. I shall never forget that walk to Wei-hai-wei. Rachel thought it was great fun at first, and so did Jack and Jill. They liked wearing the Chinese dresses and doing no lessons, but they soon got tired of walking, especially Tiny Tim, who kept on calling out for father to come and carry him.

The sun was very hot, but we were obliged to press on, we were so much afraid of being pursued and taken back again. Sometimes we would see a band of rioters coming, and have to leave the road and hide; and once we were overtaken, and the people looked at us very fiercely and called us "foreign devils." Tiny Tim was very frightened, and hid his face in mother's dress, and I thought we should be killed. Somehow I did not feel much fear. I remembered the talk I had with father, and Jesus was very near, and it seemed much better to go to Him and be at rest for ever than to be hungry and faint and tired, and to go through the pain of so many partings as we had gone through lately. But the Chinese did not kill us as they did so many of the missionaries. I think they were afraid to do so, as we were getting nearer every hour to places where English soldiers were; but they took away a great many of our clothes, and stole our money. Nurse had her money in her hand, and they beat her knuckles with a stick till she dropped it, and then they ran away laughing.

When we got to the first village we asked to see the Mandarin, and told him how we had been treated; our clothes and money taken, and how were we to get on, and what should we do for food? But instead of helping us, he was very cruel indeed. He hated the Christians, and said he wished we had come yesterday, as then he would have killed us all, but now he had had orders, owing to the Empress being so merciful, not to do so, but just to send the "foreign devils" away. So he sent us on to the next village, and though we were tired and hungry yet we were glad to go, as he seemed so fierce and cruel. In the next village the Mandarin was kinder, and gave us a little rice to eat, but he said he could not keep us. This happened in all the villages through which we passed.

Sometimes they would give us a little food, but they would not allow us to rest or give us any carts to ride in. They always took us outside the village, and then went away. Mother said afterwards it was because they were afraid of killing us, and yet they did not wish to have us with them. It was a weary, weary time, especially for the little ones, but through it all God never forsook us; indeed we seemed to be kept in constant communion with Him, and as we drew near to Wei-hai-wei a most wonderful thing happened.

We were very weary, and sat down by the roadside to rest. The children said they could not walk a step farther, and though it was not, of course, quite safe to do so, yet we were so near a place of safety that mother made up her mind to rest there for the night. We went a little off the high road, to a place as much screened from observation as possible. Mother and Nurse sat down and made the little ones as comfortable as they could, and then, as we always did, we asked God to take care of us and be very present with us during the night. We had hardly gone off to sleep when we heard steps approaching Tramp, tramp, came the footsteps, nearer and nearer. I was wide awake in a moment, and my heart stood still, for, in the gathering darkness, I saw plainly a tall Chinaman approaching. He seemed to be alone, but this might not be the case. What if he were the leader of a band of Boxers! I did not mind so much for myself, but I could not bear to think of the others being tortured and killed. He looked terrible in the darkness as he came towards us. I did not know what to do. I only thought, in a wild kind of way, that I would go to him and ask him to take my life and not to waken the others. I could talk Chinese a little, and hoped to be able to make him understand. I got up quickly, without even disturbing mother—she was sleeping heavily, for sorrow, as the disciples of old—and as he strode over the ground which divided us I rushed up to him and put out my hands, and then I remembered nothing more till I heard a voice—a loved voice that I never thought to hear again in this world. I dreamed I was in Heaven with father, and he wore a Chinese dress, but when I came rather painfully back to earth again, the first thing I was conscious of was that I was in the arms of the tall Chinaman I had seen.

[image]As he strode over the ground which divided us, I rushed up to him and put out my hands.

[image]

As he strode over the ground which divided us, I rushed up to him and put out my hands.

"Don't hurt them," I cried out in an agony, "kill me instead, but do not hurt them: they have suffered so much already."

"Cicely, my darling, don't you know me?"

The voice again. I was so weak and unnerved, or I should have recognized before my own precious father. I went off once more then, this time for joy and thankfulness, and woke to feel his strong arms round me, and knew that God was good, and that my pain was over. My care and anxiety was gone, for was not father with us again? Were not his arms round me?

"Humanly speaking," said father, in answer to our breathless questions, "my escape is all owing to Mr. Li. He stood between me and what would probably have been a torturing death. I was struck down, and when they saw I was not dead, their rage knew no bounds—and that noble fellow defended me, and did what he could to protect our property till the Mandarin came. The Mandarin put me in prison, but Mr. Li rescued me, provided me with this dress, gave me food and money for the journey, brought me on my way, and here I am. I often thought of Onesiphorus. 'He oft refreshed me, and was not ashamed of my chain.' Thank God! Our loss has been his unspeakable gain. He told me last Tuesday night that he could hold out no longer. He was full of wonder at the peace in which we were kept whilst death was so near and our property was being destroyed, and especially at your calmness, my darling. Under God it was just the touch that was required. He yielded then and there, and gave himself to Christ. He is anxious to make a public profession of his faith by being baptized as soon as ever the opportunity occurs. He will make a splendid Christian, for he has counted the cost and found Christ worthy."

"Thank God," said mother, fervently, "this one soul saved is worth all the pain."

"I knew you would feel like this, Christine. The Lord has been very good to him and to us. He has brought us all together again. We are all here, are we not, dear wife?"

Mother did not answer, but I saw her bosom heave. Father looked round anxiously, and the tears slowly welled into his eyes. He put his arm round mother.

"It is all right, Christine," I heard him whisper. "He knows best. She has been saved so much pain. When was it, my dearest?"

"Last Wednesday, Paul."

"And to-day is Friday. Three days in heaven beholding the face of the Father. Let us thank Him, dear wife, for this also."

We all knelt down upon the grass, and after that I heard father and mother talking far on into the night, and, looking up, I saw God's stars in His sky, and felt how very near He was, and then I went to sleep, and the next day, towards evening, we met some English soldiers and arrived at Wei-hai-wei.

CHAPTER VI.

NINA'S STORY.

I promised my cousin Cicely St. John that I would write a little history of what took place after we were separated from one another. She is going to do the same; and then some day when we go back to England we shall get it all put together and have it published in one big book. It has always been my ambition to write a book, and I am quite sure that I can write. People all have their particular gifts—writing is one of mine. I was not very good when I was at school, but I never found the essays any trouble at all. And when I was fourteen I got a five-shilling prize in a magazine, and my story was published in the Christmas number. It was illustrated, and the picture in the place of honour on the cover. I was so delighted about it and so was father, but then he always does love everything I do. People say he spoils me, and perhaps he does; all I can say is, it is very nice being spoilt! I am always happier when I am with father and his friends than with girls of my own age.

I never cared much for girls; the little ones talk about their dolls and the big ones about their clothes. I like hearing father and his brother officers talk and tell tales of sport and adventure. Of course I know father would have liked me to have been a boy. He must have been disappointed, though he never said so, because then I should have been a soldier like he is, and gone to the war in South Africa, or perhaps have been here in Pekin, just as we are now.

It is a month since we came to the Celestial City, and such a long time since I stayed with Uncle Paul and Aunt Christine. We went to them when we first came out to China. I had never seen them in my life before.

[image]The Pagoda at Pekin.

[image]

The Pagoda at Pekin.

Cicely is different from other girls, and I love her dearly. She is much younger than I am, two years younger, but she seems almost as old. She is so grave and a little old-fashioned; somehow I feel better when I am with her and Uncle Paul—they make me want to be good. I often wonder where they are, and hope things are not as bad for them as they are with us, for here in the Celestial City things look very black indeed. Father wishes he had left me behind in Wei-hai-wei, but I would much rather be with him, even though the worst comes and he has to kill me himself. Uncle Paul thinks one ought not to do this, but then Uncle Paul is an angel. When I am with him I feel all the time a longing after something better. I told Mrs. Ross about him. Mrs. Ross is my great friend here. She is young and very pretty, and she met Uncle Paul once. When I told her what he made me feel like, she said, "Yes, I know, dear, he makes you feel as if you didn't care how your frock fitted, but when you get away you think to yourself you may as well look as nice as you can." Mrs. Ross has only been married a few months. She came here just after her honeymoon. She has the most wonderful eyes I have ever seen, like the stars in the soft, dark sky. She and I and nearly always together, though she is years older than I am. Still she says she is very glad to have me for her friend, as there are so few girls out here. Captain Ross looks stern and troubled, and very careworn, but all the men have that expression now, and if only you saw the faces of the Chinese you would not wonder much; they are so dreadfully cruel and revengeful, and they look at us as if they hate us and would like to murder us all. If they killed people outright it would not be so dreadful; but they torture a person for days first; they do this to their own people, how much more then to us, if they had us in their power?

It is the cruel Empress who hates the foreigners, and it is her emissaries who have stirred up the people against us. The Boxers are her tools really, and the ignorant people are told all kinds of things which they believe, that the Europeans take their little children and kill them, and that it is our presence here which causes the lack of rain, and then they pretend to see most wonderful apparitions, those who appear always bearing the same message, "Kill! kill!" The other day they declared that a marvellous vision appeared in the sky; it was a spirit girl, they said, with a lamp in her hand. Father and I went out to see it, but of course we did not see the girl, but only a brilliant light in the sky, and the Chinese, who are very superstitious, imagined the rest. But what caused more stir and alarm than anything else was the mysterious Red Hand which suddenly appeared in Pekin. Mrs. Ross and I saw it on a house one day, and then again on another, and as the people caught sight of these dreadful Red Hands they gesticulated wildly, and seemed terribly excited. Mrs. Ross was very frightened, as she thought it meant that the Boxers were going to kill all the inmates of the houses on which the Red Hand appeared, but Captain Ross said he had been told by someone who knew that we, the foreign devils, were accused of marking the houses, and wherever this dreadful mark appeared a curse was sure to follow; in seven days one of the inmates would go mad, or in fourteen days they would die. This was just before a most dreadful event occurred.

CHAPTER VII.

A PAINFUL DISCOVERY.

Several days passed by. One gets accustomed to everything, and we were getting used to the big fires at night and all the mysterious warnings we had had, and I was getting very tired of not being able to run about as in the old days before we came to Pekin. It was a lovely morning, and I made up my mind to go round and see my friend, Mrs. Ross. I was allowed to go and see Mrs. Ross, but when there I was never supposed to be out of her sight. Father was busy when I left, so I did not see him, but Phoebe, our old servant, followed me with a great many injunctions and warnings—at which, I am sorry to say, I only laughed. The sunshine seemed to intoxicate me—I revelled in it—I could no longer feel any fear; afterwards I thought I must have been mad that morning. I turned round in the middle of my flight down the path which led to the house in which Captain and Mrs. Ross lived.

"Phoebe," I cried, shaking back my curls, which, somehow, always would come tumbling about my face, "Phoebe, you may depend upon it the Chinese are not nearly so black as they're painted; anyway, black or yellow, or whatever they are, it's a lovely day, and I'm going to enjoy myself."

"And what am I to tell your pa, Miss Nina?"

"Oh, tell him anything you like—why, tell him the truth to be sure—that I've gone to spend the morning with Mrs. Ross."

"Miss Nina, I don't like the looks of you this morning. When your eyes are as if there was little imps a-dancing in 'em, then I looks out for squalls."

"Thank you, Phoebe," I said, laughing and making her a mocking curtsey. "My eyes feel very flattered, I can assure you."

"Oh, they're well enough, and bright enough," she replied, grudgingly, "but I should like to see a bit more soberness about them; why, when I was your age, miss, I was married. Mr. Larkins—

"Poor man," I ejaculated under my breath.

Phoebe did not hear; she was lost in reminiscences of the past.

"Poor, dear Mr. Larkins, he were took quite sudden like; his mother died of heart complaint, and yet I never thought to say to Larkins, 'Who knows, my dear, but you might be took the same yourself, one day.'"

"I should think not, Phoebe; it would have made poor Mr. Larkins very uncomfortable if you had. I daresay," I added, under my breath, "he was none too happy as it was," but, like all deaf people, the very thing I did not mean her to hear she heard at once, and turned upon me angrily.

"Not happy, miss! As happy as the day was long was Mr. Larkins, and a deal happier if the days be these here days in China."

"Oh, Phoebe, the day is bright enough; there is nothing wrong with that."

"The day is all right for them as wasn't kept awake all night by those bloodthirsty villains."

"I heard nothing, Phoebe; I was asleep."

"It's all very well for them as can sleep; but, there, you're only a child, after all."

"Why, Phoebe, you said a minute ago that I was old enough to be married," and with this parting shot I ran away.

Poor old Phoebe; our troubles pressed sore upon her. I had never seen her so put out before. She had been in our family for forty years, and was, therefore, privileged to be very disagreeable sometimes. As I ran down the path I met Mr. Crawford; he saluted, hesitated, and finally stopped short.

"Whither away, Miss Nina?"

He had such a kind, honest face, one of those you feel instinctively you can trust.

"I am going to see Mrs. Ross."

"All by yourself? Pardon me, does the Colonel know of your intention?"

"Oh, yes—that is, I don't know; father was out when I left, but Phoebe saw me go, and I had to listen to lectures yards long. I hope," I added, saucily, "that I shall not have to listen to any more."

His boyish face had grown quite grave, his honest eyes had a look of apprehension in them, but he spoke lightly.

"I see you are a very determined young lady, but perhaps you will allow me to accompany you so far; then, when I have seen you safe in Mrs. Ross's hands, I can make my report to the Colonel and set his mind at rest."

"Oh, you can come if you like," I replied, grandly. I was accustomed to have a great deal of attention; indeed, I could not have received much more had I been a little princess. "One would think I was the most precious thing in the world."

"Well, are you not?" he asked, gravely.

"It depends what precious means," I replied, sapiently. "If it means very good, I am afraid I am not that—at least, not half so good as Cicely."

"Who is Cicely?"

"Cicely St. John; she is my cousin; she is altogether lovely," I cried, with enthusiasm, "and so is Uncle Paul; he is a missionary out here at Chen-si."

"A missionary—and at Chen-si—then God help him!"

He said the last under his breath, but I heard him.

"Oh, Mr. Crawford," I cried, earnestly, for I love Uncle Paul dearly, "you do not think he is in danger?"

"I should think he probably left, Miss Nina, before the troubles began, and you know," reassuringly, "'Ill news flies apace,' so that, as you have heard nothing to the contrary, you may take it for granted he is all right."

We had got to the end of our walk now, but he opened the gate for me, and still lingered.

"I want to know that you are quite safe," he said, smiling. "You see what a gaoler I am. Ah, there is Mrs. Ross."

I ran to her and kissed her joyfully.

"Nina, darling, how delightful; come to spend a long day with me, I hope?"

"I should like to," I replied, "if Mr. Crawford will let father know."

"Your obedient slave, Miss Nina; I will be sure to acquaint the Colonel, and now I must be going."

"Won't you come in, Mr. Crawford?" said Mrs. Ross.

"I fear I cannot," he replied. "I have to report myself at headquarters. I was on guard last night."

"Any fresh news?" asked Mrs. Ross.

"Nothing but the usual story of the last few days. They have been firing a lot more houses, and the visions and apparitions are as numerous as ever."

"And the Red Hand?" asked Mrs. Ross, shuddering.

"Oh, we have got quite accustomed to it by this time," he replied.

He spoke lightly to reassure us, but it was easy to detect a vein of apprehensiveness behind his light tone.

Mrs. Ross looked pensive, and this pensive look added to her beauty and made her entrancing.

"Well, Nina," she said, when we were alone, "what would you like to do this morning?"

"Anything you like, darling," I replied, eagerly. "I am so tired of doing nothing and sitting in all day. I know what I should like," I cried, excitedly; "I should like to go into the park."

"The park?" said Mrs. Ross, turning her liquid gaze to the window. "Yes, it looks inviting this morning. I wonder if we could. I fear George would not like it—he can't bear me to leave the house; but, really, everything seems very quiet this morning, I don't see why we shouldn't go a little way. One does get so tired, as you say, of sitting in the house. It seems strange," she added, smiling, "the park being such an excitement to us. It was positively none when we could go any day, but 'Circumstances alter cases,' to quote a very trite proverb, and I fear you and I, Nina, are very human, and share the universal longing for what is out of reach."

"Yes. Do you know," I replied, laughing, "father never will forbid me anything, because he says he knows I should want to do it immediately?"

"What a character you are giving yourself," smiling. "At any rate you are true; and, if you loved, you would be easily guided."

"Yes, that is it," I cried. "I would do anything for love's sake; I love father, and so I would not hurt him for the world; his wishes are my law."

"Do you know," said Mrs. Ross, turning her lovely eyes on me with a new expression in their depths, "without meaning it, you have exactly described the relationship which exists between the renewed soul and the Father? I shall never forget that sermon your uncle preached on that subject. 'And because ye are sons, God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father.' I don't know what makes me tell you this, but I have never felt the same since that day."

"No one ever does feel the same after meeting Uncle Paul; but the worst of it is I get so naughty again when I am away from him."

"So very, very naughty," she said, playfully, "and this is one of your wicked deeds I fear, and I am aiding and abetting you."

"You darling," I said, fondly, locking my arms in hers, "I don't know what I should have done in this place without you; and what a nice morning this is, and how pleasant it is here under the trees."

"Yes, but we had better keep the house in view; you see I have the caution which comes with age!"

And so we strolled on under the trees, and forgot our troubles for one short morning. The air seemed deliciously sweet and fresh, though, a few days later, it grew unbearably hot. We were just thinking of returning to the house when in the distance I saw a curious object on the ground; it lay under the trees about 200 yards away, and nothing would content me but that I must go and find out what it was. In vain Mrs. Ross expostulated, and pointed out the danger of going so far and getting out of touch with the houses; the spirit of mischief prompted me, and I ran away laughing. Lilian followed, entreating me to stop, but, I am sorry to say, the more excited she grew the more I laughed and the faster I ran—on and on, until I got quite close to the object which had excited my curiosity. Judge of my horror when, on looking down, I found it was one of our own soldiers lying there, dead; he had evidently been murdered by the Boxers.

I felt sobered in a moment. The beauty of the day had gone, and the sun seemed cruel now, as it blazed pitilessly down on the man's white, upturned face. I recognized him at once, for he had been for years in my father's regiment, and was a great favourite with us all.

And now he lay there in the bright sunshine, dead. I knelt by his side, quite forgetting the danger we were in, until Lilian Ross came up and almost dragged me away.

"Nina," she said, "you must be mad; come back with me this instant. We are out of sight of home, and any moment we may be stopped."

I rose sobbing, and quite subdued now, prepared to follow her quietly, feeling indifferent to everything. It was too late. As we retraced our steps, we heard wild shouting and cries, that awful cry that woke the stillness of the night—"Kill, kill."

Lilian turned as white as snow. I realized that it was through my rashness; we were probably doomed to a cruel death. I felt it keenly, because I saw that I had sacrificed Lilian as well as myself, but she never reproached me.

"Nina," she whispered, hurriedly, "have you got your satchet with you?"

The fear in her lovely eyes was reflected, I know, in mine.

"Yes," I said, fumbling with my hand in the bosom of my dress, "it is here."

"That is right, we may need it. I do not fear death, not since I met Mr. St. John; but torture—" and she shuddered.

"Oh, Lilian, and I have brought you to this. I shall never forgive myself—never."

"You did not mean it, darling."

"No, but it comes to the same thing."

"It may be possible for us to escape, even now; let us take this turn, Nina, it will lead us round by the other entrance."

The horrid sounds were coming nearer—we turned to flee, but it was too late. They caught a glimpse of us as we disappeared, and with wild, horrible cries they came rushing after us. A sensation of cruel fear—the knowledge that certain death stared us in the face—a quick review, as in a mirror, of all my past life—an agonized prayer for help, a sickening sensation of pain—and then a blank. And then——

CHAPTER VIII.

TAKEN PRISONER.

I was in a vast hall, and Lilian Ross stood by my side. How we got there I did not know, I only knew that we were there and still alive, that death was yet to come. At the other end of the hall, upon a kind of red dais, stood a man. I suppose he was a man, but he appeared to me to be more like a personation of the evil one, he had such a cruel, wicked face; and, as he sat glowering there, he looked as if he would like to devour us, so great was his hatred and wrath. One or two men were near him, but, for the most part, they stood in a vast circle, leaving a clear space in the centre for us, and, as they glared at us, they brandished their spears and shrieked for our blood. They seemed more like wild beasts than men. Then one who stood near the throne began to gesticulate, and brandish his horrid, blood-stained spear, but the man on the raised dais smiled. His smile was worse than the other's fury, and then he said a few words. I could not understand it all, but I knew enough of Chinese to guess that we were to die a lingering death of agony. The implements of torture were all round us, and these men thirsted for our blood; indeed, they seemed to be mad with the lust for blood; but there were preliminaries to be gone through; they would not touch us until they had performed their horrid ceremonies. Waving their hands and brandishing their spears, they seemed to be mingling in some kind of weird dance.

In the centre was a blood-stained stone, and, as they sang, they bowed down until their spears touched this stone. They seemed by these terrible orgies to be working themselves up to a still greater pitch of fury. Every moment I expected to be our last, for it seemed as if they would not be able much longer to restrain themselves, but would tear us to pieces in their fury.

I closed my eyes and shuddered. We clung to each other and tried to pray. Then I found out that they were speaking to us. I could not understand all that they said, but I understood enough to know that they wished us to abjure our religion. We were to deny Christ, and fall down and worship their horrible idols. If we did this, they promised us our lives. It was a deadly temptation. Lilian thought of her husband, and I thought of father; and we were young, and life was sweet, and it was so horrible to die without saying good-bye to anyone. Perhaps people in England will wonder and blame us that it was a temptation to us at all, but I heard Uncle Paul say once that temptation was not sin: that it only becomes sin when we yield. They say that times of great persecution are times of decision, too. I had not cared much for Christ in the old days; I had not been like Uncle Paul or Cicely—I had been careless and thoughtless; but now, with a cruel death staring me in the face, now, I chose Him. I turned to Lilian. "Christ for me," I said, in reply to her questioning look, and all my heart seemed on fire and my soul to be full of love. Lilian had made the choice also—I read the answer on her face before she spoke. Terribly frightened as I was, I gazed at her in the keenest admiration; her beautiful hair had become loosened, and now fell over her shoulders in a mass of gold; her lovely starlight eyes, pure and steadfast as those of any pictured saint, were fixed on our persecutors.

"Nina," she said to me in a whisper, "I do not know whether they would allow us to take that poison, but even if it were possible I think it would be better not to do so. We are in God's hands, and they cannot touch a hair of our heads until He gives them permission."

"Yes," I replied, "I agree with you—it's difficult, of course, to know if a thing is right or wrong now, but Uncle Paul would not have done it. I will follow him."

They seemed to be making some horrid preparations at the other end of the room—our time had come; we felt that and prepared to die. It's all very well to read about these things in a story, but unless you have passed through it yourself, you can have no idea of the horror and fear and deadly anticipation of coming woe which we felt. I was positively sick with terror, but I also felt full of an overwhelming love—I knew that Christ was worth all and more than all.

I whispered to Lilian that it would soon be over, and a text came running into my mind, "Our light affliction which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory."

They seemed to have completed their preparations now, and came toward us with horrid cries.

"Oh, Lilian, do pray that we may be kept."

"Yes, yes, darling, it will soon be over, and then the glory."

I just remember that—I know they seized us; they tore us away from each other. And then I can recall nothing but some awful place of pain—a place of confusion and horrible noise and terrible suffering and then a blank, which seemed to last for years and years—then Lilian's voice, very faint, very far away—then a little nearer, a little louder.

"Are you better, darling?"

"Yes" (my voice was so weak, I could hardly hear it myself), "have I been ill?"

"Very, very ill, but you are better now, thank God, thank God."

"Where are we, Lilian?"

"In a kind of a cave at the back of a house."

"But how did we get here, I want to know all about it."

"I wonder if you are strong enough to hear more now?"

"Yes, yes," I cried, feverishly; "it will make me much worse not to know."

"Well," she replied, soothingly, "I think it would, and you must not agitate yourself. Now I will give you a cooling draught, and then you must lie quite still, and I will tell you everything."

"You won't hide anything, will you? I want to know what happened after that dreadful torture," and I shuddered.

"You were not tortured, darling; what their intentions were I do not know. I think they did mean to put us to a cruel death, but God is over all and prevented it."

"But why have I been ill then, Lilian? I am sure I could not have fancied it all."

"My poor darling, you had a dreadful blow—they pushed us so violently apart that you fell with your head against that platform; it was a horrid cut, but it is healing up nicely now."

"Then what happened?"

"Well, the sight of your blood, instead of calling forth their compassion, only seemed to infuriate them, and as I knelt beside you and tried to staunch the blood, I thought all was lost; but just at that moment a wonderful thing happened: I heard a great noise at the far end of the hall—two men had entered, and one of them was violently gesticulating. It appears that enormous rewards have been promised for our discovery, and this man had undertaken to find us. I could not make out what they said, but, no doubt, you would have been able to do so. The other man, who was scholarly and refined-looking, and altogether of a different type, seemed for some reason or other to have great influence with them. He did not say much, but when he did speak they listened, and gradually they ceased to brandish their spears, and after what seemed an eternity to me, I saw that they had given up the idea of murdering us, at any rate for the present. What arguments these men used, of course, I do not know, but anything like the expression of concentrated disappointment and rage on the faces of those who would have killed us, I have never seen. It makes me shudder to think of it now. An order was then given, and we, or rather, I was marched off, for you, poor darling, were past marching or doing anything. The two strange men picked you up, not un-gently, and we moved off; it seemed to me along, long way. Then there was another altercation, but at last it was decided that we should be taken to this house, and here we have been ever since. These two men guard us; if you look through the room opening out of this into the courtyard, you will see one of them standing there now. I do not know what their intentions are, but I conclude they are friendly—at any rate, we have not been molested by the Boxers since that terrible morning; and they have been kind and attentive in bringing us food; and once, when you were very ill, they brought a Chinese doctor to see you. I think we must either be outside or else very near the walls of the city; at any rate, it's a long, long way from the Legation. Now that you are better and can speak you will be able to talk to them; my great difficulty has been that understanding the language so little I have not been able to converse with them at all."

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