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THE WASON
CHINESE
COLLECTION

 

 

 

 

 
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Rnigbts Who
Fought the
Dragon

 

 

 

By
Eowin Leslie

 

 

 

Philadelphia
The Sunday School Times Co.
1906
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KNIGHTS WHO FOUGHT
THE DRAGON
‘Some say that the age of chivalry is
past; that the spirit of romance is dead.
The age of chivalry is never past so long
as there is a wrong left unredressed on
earth, or a man or woman left to say, ‘1
will redress that wrong, or spend my life
in the attempt.’ The age of chivalry is
never past so long as we have faith
enough to say, ‘God will help me to
redress that wrong, or if not me, he will
help those that come after me, for his
eternal will is to overcome evil with
good.’ ”’—DEAN STANLEY.
FOREWORD

O China! arrogant in thine isolation, had not
thine ears been stopped by prejudice, in the
very beginning of this twentieth century thou
wouldest have heard at thy closed doors a voice
crying, “I am Zeitgeist, the Spirit of the age,
mighty, invincible. Bid me welcome, patriarch
among the nations. Admit me freely and thou
shalt prosper; resist me, and lo! thy doom. For
enter I will. If thou wilt not greet me as friend,
I come as foe. As futile to build a Great Wall
to bar the winds from thy fair landscapes, as
futile to erect towers on thy beach to check
the tides from thy shores, as to oppose my
onward march. For I am a force of the Infinite.

“Thou lookest with pride on thy four hun-
dred millions of inhabitants. Well thou may-
est! For where is their equal for industry, for
intelligence, for perseverance, for frugality, for
cheerfulness? What realm has an aristocracy
like thine, measured by breadth of intellect?

7
Foreword

“Thy very greatness renders me more clam-.
orous. For with it thou art narrow, supersti-
tious, blindly exclusive.

“Thy system of government is effete; thy
officials are driven to rapacity and plunder;
when thou shouldest have enough and to
spare, thy system of taxation makes thee a
borrower from many nations; rich beyond esti-
‘mate in undeveloped resources, masses of thy
people ofttimes hunger for food; thou wor-
‘shipest thou knowest not what.

“T bring thee unstinted communication with
ithe world of which thou art but a part; power
ito see the untold wealth of coal and minerals
which lies at thy feet; manufactories to facili-
‘tate thy industries; railroads to aid thy com-
merce; knowledge of less wasteful modes of
collecting thy revenue; skill in the science of
war that thou mayest guard thy peace.

“T, the Spirit of the age, hold these gifts for
thee in my outstretched hands. Thou spurn-
est them at thy peril. Thinkest thou that by
whetting thy sword to kill my heralds thou
wilt balk my designs? Believe it not. The
8 ;
sword shall pierce thine own heart, and from
every sod red with the blood of the slain there
shall spring a host whose testimony shall be
like to that of those thou didst wantonly up-
root. O China! turn towards me thy wilful
face, I pray. Thou lookest ever into the past;
on my ensign is ‘Forward, the best is yet to
be!”
CONTENTS

CHAPTER I

AT HOME IN PEKING ........-..46.

CHAPTER 1

DovuGLas MEDHURST SOLILOQUIZES .. .....

CHAPTER III

THE BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION AND ITS GUESTS

CHAPTER IV

Ray’s LETTER FROM SHANSI . . . . 2. 2 2 es

CHAPTER V

BrroreE Dr. GiLmMouR Lerr HOME ......

CHAPTER VI
SHANSI TROUBLES .....-.-.+.+e64-6 ‘
CHAPTER VII
THECAVE - & 3 40% isda Gee Ee
Il

31
Contents

CHAPTER VIII

THE RESCUE OF SAINA.. 2-4) eee ee ee Io1
CHAPTER IX

«©OF WHOM THE WoRLD Was Not WoRTHY”’ . . 107
CHAPTER X

EME MOB: oo). bes ede he eG a Re BE a 126
CHAPTER XI

WitH HunG CHUAN ...... Bria eae ete ay 135
CHAPTER XII

FRoM MANDARIN TO MANDARIN ........ 153
CHAPTER XIII

WHEN DUKE WAS WOUNDED ........ -173

CHAPTER XIV
THE DEATH OF BLOSSOM

CHAPTER XV
BREAKING HEARTS
Contents

CHAPTER XVI
AT! PAOTING: 62.6 6 alm eae Se Pe we 197

HoME AGAIN ........ oe WOR Se Sw 206

CHAPTER XVIII

IN THE DRAWING Room. ..... Be we, Sy eT

CHAPTER XIX

DouGLas AND Ray BREAKFAST ALONE ..... 221
CHAPTER XX
DUKE AND ROSE FRANKLIN ...... ere ys

CHAPTER XXI

AMERICAN METHODIST MISSION COMPOUND . . . 242

CHAPTER XXII

IN THE BRITISH LEGATION. . ........-. 251

CHAPTER XXIII

DUKE ON THE City WALL... «1 1 1 1 1. . 255

13°
Contents

CHAPTER XXIV

DuKE IN THE HOSPITAL . . «2 ee ee ees 260

CHAPTER XXV

Ray AND HER MOTHER .......+ ++... 266

CHAPTER XXVI
SIEGE HoRRORS

of Le aR ee ae et Sl 274
CHAPTER XXVII

PEKING AFTER THE SIEGE ........264: 282
CHAPTER XXVIII

DouGLas WINS .... 1. ee ee ee ee es 288

14
CHAPTER I
AT HOME IN PEKING

In the year of our Lord eighteen hundred
and ninety-nine, the November sun shone down
in Peking into the street of Eternal Harmony.
The fronts of the shops were brightly gilded,
and crimson banners suspended horizontally
over the way bore in gay letters diversified sen-
timents. In one place the loiterer was informed
that “Chattering and gossip interfere with busi-
ness,” the next asserted with a positiveness cal-
culated to convince the most skeptical, “No
Cheating Here,” while across the road, where
were displayed needles and thread of various
sizes and hues, the modest sign announced a
“Place of Heavenly Treasure.”

The shop windows, destitute of glass, opened
directly on the street, and jutting out over
the footpath were arrayed counters of shining
wares, amid which the sunbeams glistened.

Between the raised mud embankment for
the vehicles and the little hard walk close by
the shop for foot passengers, lay a gutter down
which there slowly trickled, or festeringly stag-

15
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

nated, filth of all description. Lean pigs and
mangy dogs disputed the right to scavenging
the little heaps of garbage; while pungent odors
compounded of ten thousand mismatched
smells rose in the keen air.

There was movement and activity every-
where. Heavy two-wheeled carts jolted over
the thawing mud road; half-naked coolies
moved forward carrying poles from which
were suspended heavy burdens; and making
their way with many interruptions were sedan
chairs borne by villainous-looking bearers.

The cry of the mule-driver, the yelling of
the hawker, the creaking of carts and wheel-
barrows, the disputing voices of loose-robed,
wide-trousered tradesmen haggling over cash,
all mingled in one deafening hubbub.

The sunshine sent little glints of light from
the razor of the barber who was shaving the
forehead of his well-wrapped patron, fell on
the beggar adjusting his tattered garment to
more fully display his loathsome sores, and
glowed upon the flaccid face and bald head of
the coarsely-clad Booddhist monk.

At the end of the causeway was a low build-
ing, built around the three sides of a court—
a building which for years had been familiar to
the Orientals near as the “Mission Compound.”

16
At Home in Peking

Dr. Gilmour, an American and a graduate of
Harvard, had been head of the hospital there
ever since its beginning. His hair was black
when he came, it was snow-white now, though
the doctor was but middle-aged.

In one of the dwelling-rooms of the com-
pound, Mrs. Gilmour and her daughter Ray sat
in heart-to-heart conversation.

“Now that you are home again, do you re-
gret the sacrifice of those two years at college,
Ray?”

“No and yes, mother. I didn’t have any
hesitancy about giving them up when first you
wrote that Paul’s two thousand had been spir-
ited into nowhere by that unlucky bank failure.
I reasoned that father divided evenly between
us two the legacy of four thousand dollars,
which was all he had to spare for our education,
and that I had already used one thousand dol-
lars of my share, so when Paul’s had vanished,
it was only fair that I should come home and
save the remaining one thousand dollars for
him. And yet, forgive me, mother, for my
selfishness, sometimes, since, I have half wished
you hadn’t allowed me to do it. It is only
noble souls, of which I am not one, that give
generously without ever counting the cost.”

“Poor child! I can guess what it must have

17
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

meant to you. But you could graduate still by
studying at home, Ray.”

“Nay, marmee, dear! I couldn’t, because I
haven’t half your energy and ambition. It is a
craving with me, as it has always been with
you, to know. But a steady, wearisome climb up
Parnassus is what I never could endure. Even
at Boston, first places and honors never aroused
me to enthusiasm. I reveled in some of the
subjects, but I liked tennis and boating and
country excursions just as well. By what law
of heredity do you account for the fact that
such an unceasingly active little mother should
have a daughter so ease-loving? The too-in-
dustrious students used to remind me of
Heine’s description of the knowing old Canon
who studied night and day as if he were afraid
the worms would find an idea too little in his
head. That busy bee of Dr. Watts’ was a
most exemplary insect, but if I were to improve
every shining hour I would lose all my cheer-
fulness and pine in the dumps.”

“T think you are right, Ray. Many a time
I have tired myself into a fever of nervousness
and impatience, and then felt displeased that
you didn’t do the same. You pursue your aims
in life leisurely, but they are always in your
sight. Your personality gets full play so, and

18
At Home in Peking

the mind receives more vivid impressions. To
change the subject, Ray, I have been waiting
ever since you came home, hoping you would
tell me about Frank. You never said in your
letters why your engagement was broken off.”

“I never could talk of it to any one while I
was passing through the conflict, mother, and
since I have been home, when I would have
spoken of it, the words died on my lips. All
that first year in Boston I was in Elysium. I
believe Frank loved me with his whole heart.
We used to meet every Sunday at auntie’s, and
often on Saturday afternoons he came up for me
and we went to the art galleries together. I un-
derstood everything he told me about pictures,
though I can’t draw a line. He would talk to
me for hours about his studies, and how he
drank in new life with every advance in skill.
I heard from others, too, that he was a star
pupil and certain to make his mark in the artis-
tic world. I rejoiced in his genius. I treasured
up every scrap of praise of him and gloried over
it in secret. At the end of the first year he got
employment in engraving pictures for editions
de luxe and made a good deal of money. He
told me he had saved enough for us to be mar-
ried, but he would like instead, if I were will-
ing, to go to Rome and study. I urged him to

19
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

go. I wanted him to live abroad for a time and
see the old masters. He went. From that mo-
ment our lives began to diverge.”

“He does not love any one else, Ray?”

“Not any person, mother, but a thing. He
loves art. It absorbs him. Nothing outside of
his pursuit of it can touch him. We have had
no quarrel. Our separation has been such a
gradual process. His letters became less fre-
quent, began to have more of his work in them
and less of love, and now it is only seldom
that he writes at all.”

“He will find art cold and will return to
warm human love, Ray.”

“No, mother, he is gone from me past recall.
This year, when he came back to Boston he
spent every Sunday with me at auntie’s, just
as he used to, but, oh! there was such a
difference. He was perpetually showing me
that art had my old niche in his heart. AndI
understood only too well.”

“His must be a narrow heart if it is not large
enough to hold both you and his profession,
Ray.”

“You don’t understand Frank, mother. He
is changed so since he was here. Art isn’t a
profession with him now. It is his master-
passion. He is happy only when he is working

20
At Home in Peking

at it. He spends every minute with it that he
can spare, and he is impatient if he is absent
from it long. He could grow rich if he wished,
by embellishing books, but he doesn’t care the
snap of his finger for money except to buy leis-
ure to go on studying. I know he thinks if he
were married he would have to work to provide
for me. But I would live on a crust if I might
share it with him.”

“Does he covet fame, then, Ray?”

“No, he cares less for that than for money.
He loves art for its own sake, and desires to
excel only to satisfy the hungering of. his na-
ture.

“When auntie and I stopped at Rome on our
way home, Frank met us and took us up to his
studio. He has developed wonderfully in the
past year. And he himself is so different. He
is as strong as ever, but he has a kind of pure,
ethereal look, as if constant contemplation of
the beautiful had chiseled away everything
sensuous from his face. Auntie said he really
was almost uncanny, he seemed so far removed
from the ordinary aims and passions of mor-
tals. He ordered dinner for us and invited
some of his fellow-students to meet us. I was
so miserable I couldn’t be myself, and I know
I appeared hopelessly stupid.”

21
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

“Poor Ray!” said her mother, caressingly,
‘you have suffered.”

“Yes. I have, mother, but I wouldn’t be
without this love for twice the pain it has cost
me. I don’t want to be sour, or to let this sad-
ness embitter my life. It ought to ennoble me.
Tf it were all to do over again I would act just
the same. I would urge Frank to go abroad,
even if I knew beforehand that it would sepa-
rate him from me. Better that a thousand times
than for him to marry, and then find me a clog
on him. He will be great some day, and I will
be proud of his greatness and count myself
blessed that a man of such genius loved me
once.”

“How could Frank cast away love, Ray?
His artistic conceptions will be devoid of life if
he shuts himself out from human sympathies.”

“Not necessarily, mother. The greatest art-
ists, Raphael, Michelangelo and Leonardo da
Vinci had no need of wives and home associa-
tions. You know what Bacon says, ‘He that
hath a wife and children hath given hostages to
fortune, for they are impediments to great en-
terprises.’ ”

“But you still love Frank, Ray?”

“With all my heart. No one can ever fill his
place to me. I wish I were beautiful like

22
At Home in Peking

Cousin Elsie. Frank is so keenly sensitive to
all loveliness.” .

“Outward beauty is a gift to be highly es-
teemed, but soul beauty is better, Ray.”

“But to be devoid of either, mother. I want to
be good, but I am full of fierce contradictio-3.
T hate this dirty old city of Peking, and mission-
ary work seems the most appalling drudgery in
the world. I wish things could appeal to me
as they did before I went away. Then the fate
of the patients in the hospital was a matter to
be absorbed about, and the progress of every
little pig-tailed Celestial in the school a theme
fraught with interest. Now everything palls
on me, and I grope around in my consciousness
in vain for a return of the old sensations. I’m
like the little girl in Punch, to whom “The world
was hollow, her doll stuffed with bran, and she
wanted to go into a convent.’ You mustn’t
think, though, that I don’t appreciate home,
mother. I feel like an ungrateful wretch not to
-be happy here with you and father and Paul.”

“Tt’s no wonder our uneventful life should
seem distasteful to you after your exhilarat-
ing school-days, where you were surrounded
by blithe friends. But ‘every day cannot be a
feast of lanterns.’ In each life there are long,
long stretches of commonplace, where every

23
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

day is so like its fellow that its monotony
wearies us; and all we can do is to be cheerful
and uncomplaining, and not chafe because ec-
static happiness is denied. You should go out
more, and take an interest in others.”

“You are the most sympathetic little mother
in the world,” said Ray, thoughtfully. “T could
not open my heart to any one as I canto you. I
really do make some effort to turn a deaf ear
to my clamorous ‘ego.’ There are two warring
elements within me. When I would do good,
evil is present with me—the evil of loathing all
the things I ought to like.”

The door opened, and Dr. Gilmour and his
son Paul entered. Dr. Gilmour was tall and
slight, but finely proportioned, and his face,
though worn and tinged with sadness, was very
pleasant to look upon. Paul had his father’s
regular features, but his complexion blossomed
with the ripe, rich tints of health, and his
bounding movements and boyish exuberance
accentuated the grave calm of the figure beside
him.

The doctor crossed over to his wife. He
had a square parcel in his hand, which he
proceeded quietly to untie.

“The mail is here, is it, Graham?” said Mrs.
Gilmour, watching him.

24
At Home in Peking

“Yes,” he said, bringing forth from its wrap-
pings a copy of Palgrave’s “Golden Treasury”
and putting it into her lap.

“Did you think I had forgotten to get you a
birthday present?” he questioned. “Here are
some sonnets and lyrics for you to dream
over.”

His love for her showed itself in glance and
manner, and in indescribable ways. It diffused
itself about her like a fragrance. Twenty-five
years of married life had only rendered purer
and more intense Dr. Gilmour’s chivalric
devotion to his wife.

Mrs. Gilmour took the gift with the thanks
shining in her face.

“T’m so glad it came to-day,” she said. “Pres-
ents lose half their flavor when they are a day
late.”

“That’s pure sentiment,” said Dr. Gilmour.
“T’ve been compelled to intercept the ‘boy’ with
the mail for the past two weeks, lest the book
should lose half its flavor for you by coming too
soon.”

“There’s one thing left for you to do,” said
Mrs. Gilmour, “and you neglect it upon pain of
my displeasure. You must manage to make
time so that we can all spend the evening to-
gether. My birthday is an occasion, and must

25

2
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

have precedence even before that much-
demanding dispensary.”
“Tl stretch a point,” he answered.

26
CHAPTER II
DOUGLAS MEDHURST SOLILOQUIZES

Across the courtyard in the compound that
same afternoon Dr. Douglas Medhurst was
busy in his room packing his grips for a jour-
ney. A party of surveyors, among whom was a
college chum of his, were going through the
Northern Provinces, and they had called in the
morning to ask him to accompany them as in-
terpreter. He had jumped at the chance of a
trip into the interior.

Six years before he had graduated in medicine
and had come straight from college to Peking to
give his life to alleviating the sufferings of the
Chinese. He had spent the whole six years
assisting Dr. Gilmour in the hospital, and had
lived in the compound with the Gilmours until
he had come to seem to them almost like a
member of the family. As he folded clothes
and pulled straps he was engaged in a soliloquy
which made furrows along his high forehead.

“This is a rather cowardly business, leaving
the doctor at this juncture. He'll work him-
self to death, I’m afraid. But I must see the

27
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

interior some time, and this is my opportunity.
Why don’t I face the truth squarely now and
tell myself I’m running away because I fear
T’ll make a consummate fool of myself if I stay
around where Ray is? I’m thirty-two years of
age, old enough to have myself under control,
in all conscience, and yet the very sound of her
voice unnerves me, and when she has a sad
mood, I long to thrust myself and my love
upon her that I may comfort her. The con-
tempt with which she would greet such an
ebullition of feeling ought to restrain me. I
am less than nothing to her. She simply does
not consider me at all, that is, as I think of her.
I believe I loved her the first day I saw her. I
thought I had myself pretty well in hand until
I heard that all was over between her and
Frank, but since then how dare I aspire
to her, even in my secret thoughts? I am not
made for such as she. She would adorn any
society. She ought to marry an aesthetic,
dreamy-eyed fellow like Frank—the product of
several generations of culture, whose genius
could create for her an atmosphere of refine-
ment. Self-centered fool that he was—why
didn’t he marry her and make her happy—and
me miserable? I can never fill his place, never
be to her what he has been. Those first seven-
28

 
Douglas Medhurst Soliloguizes

teen years of my life that I spent in the back-
woods have left their mark upon me, and I’m
sadly in need of elegance and grace.”

He glanced involuntarily in the mirror, and
smiled half-sadly at the great gaunt face with
the prominent cheek bones and lantern-jaws.
“My most determined flatterer couldn’t call me
handsome.

“What a mope I’m getting into! The first
thing I know I'll be weeping over my own sor-
rows, as if they were the only griefs under
heaven. I wish I could talk some common
sense into myself. I’ve always said that if a man
finds his right place in God’s world and has a
chance to work in it, that is all that is abso-
lutely essential to his well-being. And so it is.
It is unmanly to be engrossed in my own disap-
pointments when I should be at leisure from
myself that I may help others. I’ll be more
sympathetic, no doubt, for having felt some
heartache. Cheer up, old fellow,” he continued,
shaking his head again at the image in
the glass, “you are not the only human being
who has loved in vain, so be a man and don’t
whine. If you can’t be loved, you can at least
try to be worthy of love, which is the main
thing, if you look at matters rightly.” With
which emphatic injunction he took up the Pe-

29
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

king Gazette and resolutely centered his atten-
tion on its memorials.

30
CHAPTER III
THE BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION AND ITS GUESTS

Rooms always speak unmistakably of their
owners to those who have ears to hear, and
persons entering Mrs. Gilmour’s apartments
found there a symmetry which soothed them,
even though they could not analyze its charm.
The harmony and fitness of the simple furni-
ture were evidences of Mrs. Gilmour’s taste,
but the distinctly artistic suggestions, the
abundance of pictures on the walls, the porce-
lain and brass ornaments, were Ray’s selection
and gathering.

A cheerful party gathered in the dining-room
on Mrs. Gilmour’s birthday night. The doctor
and his wife were at the head of the table, Dr.
Medhurst at one side, and Ray and Paul at
the other.

Mrs. Gilmour looked across ruefully at her
husband. She was about forty-five, but she
appeared younger. Her face, with hopelessly
irregular features, was rendered attractive by
soft pink coloring and a mobile expression.

“Li has been trying my patience again,” she

31
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

said. “Now don’t laugh. He’s my thorn in the
flesh.”

“What are his latest developments?” queried
the doctor. “Has he been smoking again in the
kitchen or bestowing all the cooking utensils
on his numerous relatives?”

“That and more. I ordered him to buy some
chickens for to-day, to celebrate with. When
I went out this morning, he frightened me by
producing two dangling eels, remarking in his
most confident tone that he had bought them
because, when fried in oil, they were a delicacy
beside which chicken in any form sank into in-
significance. So we have to be content with
eggs to-night.”

“Never mind, mother,” said fourteen-year-
old Paul, “eggs are undeveloped chickens—the
nearest thing you could get to the real article.
PU honor mother’s birthday by taking two if
you please, father.”

“T really think, Graham, I’ll have to dismiss
Li. He cheats us systematically. I believe I
could forgive him for that if I didn’t feel all the
time that he is constantly chuckling over his
astuteness in outwitting us. Surely we could
find a cook who would render us more faithful
service.”

“T doubt it, Mary. They all ‘squeeze’ more or

32
The Birthday Celebration and Its Guests

less commission out of us for buying, and Li
is a good bargainer. We barbarians in China
are so bewildered by the various standards of
weights and measures; we are blandly in-
formed at one place that one thousand cash
means six hundred or seven hundred or eight
hundred, as the case may be. We are duped on
every side by finding when too late that one
catty may or may not make four-thirds pounds
avoirdupois, and who of us has ever fathomed
the fickle law which regulates Chinese scales
and yardsticks ?”

“Li knows all the twists of his countrymen,”
said Paul, “and he’s too wide awake to let them
get ahead of him. I’ve been with him when
he’s shopping, and he would haggle and haggle
to get the reduction of a single cash.”

“You are too gentle to cope with Li, Mrs.
Gilmour,” said Dr. Medhurst. “He’s a Stoic for
impassiveness, and a Frenchman for politeness,
and the two make a baffling mixture.”

“JT sent Ray out the other day,” said Mrs.
Gilmour, “to see if she could do anything with
him, but I haven’t noticed any very pronounced
* improvement since.”

“T didn’t hope for any,” said Ray. “He lis-
tened to my enumeration of his faults with
concentrated interest. You would have thought

33
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

from his manner that I was explaining to him
that one of his relatives had died and left him
a fortune; humility and sincerity were depicted
on his countenance; he was as pliant as a
willow-wand, and as obstinate as a mule. He
assured me blandly when I was leaving that I
had only to hint my wishes to him to have
them fulfilled; that he lived but to serve me,
and my will was his law. I’ve no doubt he con-
sidered himself victorious in the conflict. What
can one do with an oily fellow like that? He
is such a cheerful liar.”

“And yet,” said Dr. Medhurst, “he has a cer-
tain fidelity to your interests, too. He cheats
you unblushingly (he would, and does, cheat
his own brother), but he won’t allow any one
else to cheat you, if he can help it.”

“He ought to be devoted to you, father, when
you fished him out of the Grand Canal,” said
Paul. “I wish I could swim like you.”

Dr. Gilmour smiled over at his impetuous
son.

“We are having plenty of milk again, Doug-
las,” said Mrs. Gilmour. “Did the cow you
bought turn out to be a good animal, after all?”

“Yes,” said Douglas. “She’s sound, but I’m
not sure I’ve acted discreetly about it. The
last cow Li bought seemed no good. I cannot

34
The Birthday Celebration and Its Guests

prove that her eccentric habits of giving milk
sometimes at night and none in the morning or
vice versa were owing to Li’s manipulations,
but I had my suspicions; and, partly to punish
him, I sold the animal and bought another. I
angered Li because he had no chance of a
‘squeeze’ on the purchase. The cow gave a fine
quantity of milk, and lest Li should get ahead
of me, night and morning I went to the stable
and watched while he did the milking. When
from some mysterious cause the cow gave less
and less I was baffled, until I noticed her grow-
ing thin. Upon investigation I found Li was
feeding her only a little provender and was
selling the remainder to his brother for a fair
sum.”

“He was reimbursing himself for the loss of
his ‘squeeze,’” said Ray.

“Did he have the grace to be ashamed of
himself when you found him out, Douglas?”
asked Mrs. Gilmour.

“Fe felt he had ‘lost his face’ to me,” said
Douglas, “not because he had done wrong, but
because he had done it so bunglingly that he
had been discovered. It would have been wiser
not to have antagonized him. Not to mention
the discomfort of having to go to the stable
early and late, I feel that, in some way, he’ll

35
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

get pecuniary satisfaction for the humiliation
of having ‘lost his face.’ ”

“T think you are mistaken, Douglas,” said
Dr. Gilmour. “When a Chinaman knows he’s
wrong he usually accepts his deserved punish-
ment without retaliation.

“Talking of Li Sing reminds me,” he con-
tinued, “that yesterday I met him coming out
of the temple, and he told me casually that the
subject of his petitions had been that I might
come to understand propriety! The blow he
unwittingly dealt to my vanity! To think that
after these years of experience I still appear so
deficient in Chinese etiquette that I excite the
compassion of even my cook! I shall have to
betake myself to re-studying the three thou-
sand rules of behavior, and endeavor again to
bend my stubborn knees after the manner of
the Chinaman, whose grace fills me with admi-
ration and despair.”

“Why, father, how could he?” burst out
Paul. “You're the politest and handsomest man
in Peking.”

They laughed merrily at Paul’s champion-
ship. But in truth even a Chinaman might
have coveted the grace of his athletic, supple
form.

“T wonder if in the Chinese Pantheon there

36
The Birthday Celebration and Its Guests

are gods who preside over etiquette and polite-
ness,” said Dr. Medhurst. “Ceremony receives
more worship within the four seas than is ac-
corded to any idol.”

“And yet their elaborate manners seem to be
often only pleasant formalities. They would
rather show how conversant they are with the
rules of good behavior than put others at their
ease,” said Ray.

“Prejudice, Ray, pure prejudice,” answered
her father. “ ‘Wad some power the giftie gie us.’
When an educated Chinaman goes to the land
of the Stars and Stripes he thinks us a boorish
nation, with no politeness to ease our brusque
ways. A letter from a Chinaman in America to
a friend of his in Peking came into my hands
the other day, showing a different point of view
from ours. I have it in my pocket. After de-
scribing some of our—to him—shocking every-
day customs, such as gentlemen and _ ladies
walking together unblushingly on the street,
eating at the same table, etc., he excuses us by
saying, ‘But what can you expect of folk who
have been brought up in barbarous countries on
the very verge of the world. They have not been
taught the maxims of our Sages; they have
never studied the Rites; how can they know
what good manners mean? We often think

37
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

them rude and insolent, when I’m sure they
don’t mean it—they’re ignorant, that’s all.’”

“Douglas,” said Paul, breaking, boy-like, into
the conversation, “are you really going to start
into the interior to-morrow? Who will help
me with my chemistry now?”

“Miss Gilmour will take my place as tutor,
perhaps,” said Douglas.

He had been involuntarily watching Ray’s
face to see if the news of his sudden departure
startled her. He saw she was interested only
in a casual way. His insight into the minds of
those around him was keenly penetrative, and
he was seldom blinded by his own inclinations.

Not that Ray was wholly indifferent to
Douglas Medhurst. His was a strong person-
ality, which persistently made itself felt; but
he was utterly at variance with her girlish ideal
of manhood.

A smothered exclamation was heard outside
the door, and after a moment a gentleman and
lady, with a little girl of four, stood inside the
threshold.

“Elsie, Elsie, how welcome you are! How
did you get here?” said Mrs. Gilmour, taking
her in her arms. From the others such a greet-
ing followed as is awarded only to home-
comers.

38
The Birthday Celebration and Its Guests

Elsie Andersen was Ray’s cousin, and had
lived with the Gilmours from the time, years
ago, when her mother had died, a penniless
widow, until the day when she had married
Herbert Andersen, and had gone with him to a
little mission station in Shansi.

“Herbert has not been very well, auntie,”
said Elsie, “so I have brought him home for
uncle to doctor.”

“You are run down, Herbert,” said Dr. Gil-
mour, looking at him with a physician’s eye.
“You’ve been disobeying Nature’s laws and my
commands, and overworking again.”

“This is your birthday night, auntie,” said
Elsie, “we are in time to share the end of the
fete.”

“I’m sure you’re much too tired after your
long journey to stay out of bed this evening,”
said Mrs. Gilmour.

“A bath and clean clothes will refresh us.
Besides, we couldn’t sleep when there are so
many things to say and hear. Just think! I
haven’t seen Ray for five years.”

“This is the fair little angel I’ve heard so
much about, Elsie,” said Ray, taking the shy
child in her arms.

“Yes, that is Blossom,” said Elsie. “Such an
odd name, but she came to us in the spring-

39
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

time, and her father would have her called
that.”

Blossom was very beautiful, with shining
golden curls falling about a pure face, out of
which looked eyes of deepest blue.

An hour later they had all gathered in the
wide, low drawing-room. They were a merry
group, and although some of them had sorrows,
they forget them and gave themselves up to the
joy of the hour.

A knock came at the door.

“T hope that’s not some one for Douglas or
you, Graham,” said Mrs. Gilmour.

The wooden-faced messenger-boy appeared,
and delivered a parcel and letter for Dr. Gil-
mour. The doctor read the letter with an ex-
clamation of annoyance.

“See, Douglas!” said he, “here is the medi-
cine I sent with the boy in haste this morning
down to the American Legation.”

“T met the boy this afternoon,” said Doug-
las, “coming out of an alley with the bottle
undelivered. When I asked him the cause of
delay he explained that he had embraced the
opportunity, which seemed to him a favorable
one, of rebraiding his queue. I reprimanded
him and sent him on his way.”

“Apparently he took the medicine to the

40
The Birthday Celebration and Its Guests

French Legation,” said Dr. Gilmour, “for Mon-
sieur Le Bruisson has just returned it with a
polite little note.”

“Likely the boy thought it wouldn’t matter
as long as some foreigner received it,” said
Paul.

“How selfish I am to complain about Li,”
said Mrs, Gilmour, “you have more to harass
you than I, and you bear it all patiently.”

“You do not complain,” he said, looking
down at her upturned face.

He never admitted her faults, even to him-
self, nor would he have changed one of her
characteristics if he could.

“T will run over to the Legation and look in
on our medicineless patient,” said Douglas.

“I wanted us all here this evening,” said
Mrs. Gilmour.

“T’ll be back in half an hour,” he answered,
brightly.

“What a magnificent physique Dr. Medhurst
has!” said Mr. Andersen. “His chest is twice
the girth of an ordinary man’s, and there must
be muscles of steel in those long, bony arms.”

“You are right, Herbert,” said Dr. Gilmour,
“and his mind is as vigorous as his body. Nom-
inally I am the head of the hospital work, but
in reality it is Douglas Medhurst. I’m getting

4l
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

to be a back number. When the day’s work is
done I’m too tired to study. I lack energy,
initiative, daring—what you will. I’m like the
Chinese in regard to the roads, I’d rather walk
on the beaten path though I see it’s far from
perfect, than get up enterprise to mend the old
ways or make new ones. I’ve grown to be a
plodder. I do the day’s work I’m accustomed
to as faithfully as I can, but Dr. Medhurst does
the same work with a vim and _ originality
which makes it count. He’s so strong he hardly
knows what fatigue means, and rises early
and sits up late to study.”

“He’s splendid,” said Paul. “He can carry
a man from one ward to another as easily as
you, Herbert, would carry Blossom. He ex-
plains my lessons, too, better than any one else.
I mean to be like him when I’m a man.”

“You're fickle in regard to ideals, Paul,” said
Ray. “Don’t you remember how you used to
declare you would be a ‘prize-fighter,’ like St.
George, who killed the Dragon? And since
when have you dethroned Oliver Cromwell,
who was your hero par excellence for a time?
Your heroes are in a descending scale. From
St. George to Dr. Medhurst is quite a drop.
With all due deference to Cromwell and Dr.
Medhurst (if it isn’t profanation to mention

42
The Birthday Celebration and Its Guests

them both in one breath), I’m not so unkind as
to wish that you should resemble the last two
in appearance. I'd be sorry to see that shiny
black hair of yours take a reddish cast like
Cromwell’s, or bleach to a faded straw-color
like Dr. Medhurst’s.”

“You can’t recognize a man when you see
one,” said Paul, indignantly. “You would prob-
ably have poked fun at Mr. Lincoln himself
because he hadn’t tapering, lily fingers and a
high-bred air.”

“Commend me to one’s brother for laying
bare one’s faults,” said Ray. “But why so hot,
my little sir?” she asked, lazily waving her
hand over Paul’s head with a fan-like gesture.
It was impossible to be angry with her, for she
never got out of temper and even in her half-
mocking speeches there was no malice.

“Paul is partly right, Ray,” said Mrs. Gil-
mour. “It is hard for you to do justice to any
man who has not a prepossessing exterior. For
instance, you picture Cromwell as a red-faced,
loud-voiced squire, and you compare him with
the mournful-eyed, gentlemanly Charles, and
instantly your sympathies go toward the king.
It makes no difference in your judgment that
Charles was false and vacillating, and Crom-
well strong and true.”

43
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

Mrs. Gilmour spoke warmly. She was an
extremely impetuous little woman and, Dr.
Medhurst being a favorite of hers, it irritated
her to see how utterly Ray failed to appreciate
him.

“T plead guilty to your charge, marmee,” said
Ray. “Does it lessen my offense in your eyes
that I know it to be a fault and struggle against
it? Yet there is a correspondence between out-
ward and inward beauty. What a person is
will show itself in one’s exterior.”

“Certainly it will,” said Mr. Andersen, “but
not by making the features regular or changing
the color of the hair. The constant practise of
all the virtues won’t alter the shape of a man’s
nose.”

They all laughed at this, for Mr. Andersen’s
was decidedly of the pug variety.

“How goes the work in Shansi, Mr. Ander-
sen?” asked Dr. Medhurst, having returned in
a glow from the haste he had made.

“Discouragingly slow,” said Mr. Andersen.
“T feel like an ant undertaking to remove the
Kolan Shan Range when I’m trying to make
headway against the ingrained beliefs of three
thousand years. There never was a people as
proudly conservative. You think you know
something of it here in Peking, but to see it in

44
The Birthday Celebration and Its Guests

its intensity you must live in the interior. A
Chinaman’s whole life may be summed up in
one word—ceremonial. Ceremonial takes the
place of sincere affection in home life; it sup-
plants morality in official life; and it blunts the
deeper feelings in all things religious.”

“And yet their very clinging to the precepts
of their ancestors wrings admiration out of
me,” said Dr. Medhurst. “They are such a
stable nation. The Chinese are bound in a few
more generations to play a prominent part in
the history of the world. But the cross of
Christ is the only lever which will raise China
from her sluggish morality.”

“Yes, when I think of it,” said Mr. Andersen,
rising and pacing up and down, “TI feel as if I
must implant in some hearts before I die a
knowledge of the teaching of the Nazarene, be
the cost to me what it may.”

Ominous red spots burned in his cheeks with
his inward excitement.

Dr. Gilmour, looking at them, felt alarmed,
and skilfully turned the conversation into chan-
nels where the shadow of the Dragon could not
come.

Ray was the life of the company. She played
the “Troisieme Ballade” for her father; she
tried her skill with Herbert at a game of chess ;

45
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

and gave a laughable account of some college
scenes,

Shy little Blossom sat near her mother, amus-
ing herself with a few ancient books and play-
things hastily gathered from the attic.

Douglas slipped out and got some nuts to
coax her to his knee. She grew to feel quite at
home on her improvised throne, and prattled
about her doll and the ‘effelunt’ book. Her
golden hair fell over his gaunt face and she
stood both of her tiny feet on his great palm.

“Beauty and the Beast,” whispered Ray mis-
chievously to Paul, enjoying the frantic panto-
mime that was the only way he could express
his disapproval.

Blossom liked the deep gray eyes which
looked so tenderly into hers; and, moved by a
sudden impulse, she threw her arms about
Douglas and gave him a prolonged kiss.

Douglas blushed crimson. Every nerve in
his body vibrated. He could not remember
when he had been kissed before—perhaps not
since his boyhood, when he had said the last
good-bye to his dying mother. A thousand
feelings struggled within him—longings for
home life; for some one to whom it was a vital
matter whether he came or went. He had such
a great, strong, loving heart, and he was so

46
The Birthday Celebration and Its Guests

lonely. A mist swam before his eyes and his
giant frame trembled.

Mrs. Gilmour, who had been watching the
scene, guessed, with woman’s quick instinct,
something of the cause of his emotion.

“Douglas,” she said, “we were speaking
about those photographs you mounted the
other day. Will you be kind enough to get
them for us?”

Endeavoring to gain his self-control in his
room, he blessed the tactful woman who had
given him a chance to recover himself in soli-
tude,

He came back in a little while with the tu-
mult in his heart abated. He had grown used
to the necessity of putting a strait-jacket on his
ardent feelings.

But Blossom gained a devoted subject to her
queenly sway that night.

It was, on the whole, an evening to be re-
membered—a halcyon season, all the more
precious because they rarely had leisure to be
all together. Each one was at his or her best.
No shadow of the separations and sorrows that
the next few months were to bring to the little
group fell on their joy.

“How happy we have been to-night,” said
Mrs. Gilmour. “Such reunions tone us up for

47
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

the seasons of depression which are the in-
evitable heritage of the highly-strung natures
of my household. We must meet here again a

year from this time.”
How merciful the kindness that veils our

eyes from beholding the future!

48
CHAPTER IV

RAY’S LETTER FROM SHANSI

“Herbert is so much better now, auntie,”

said Elsie, “that he is restless to get back to his
people. When the echo of the last New Year’s
firecrackers has died away and people settle
down to work again after their holiday, we will
start homewards.”

“T’ve about decided to listen to Ray’s plead-
ing, and send her back with you for a month
or two. She is so listless. Anything that
promises novelty and adventure suits her. She
turns a deaf ear when I speak of the various
discomforts of such a trip. I shall miss her.
She brings so much of youthful buoyancy into
my life, but——”

“But you never knew what it was to prefer
your own happiness to that of any one you
loved,” said Elsie.

“Her father could go for her as soon as
Douglas comes home,” said Mrs. Gilmour.
“The journey might be a benefit to him, too.
He has had too much on his hands since Doug-
las left.”

49
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

A week later, when Mr. and Mrs. Andersen
and Blossom returned to their mission station
among the hills, Ray made one of the party.

She described her nine-days’ journey in a
characteristic letter to Paul.

Pinetince, March 7th, 1900.
My DEAR PAUL:

We have just come home from a visit to Cheng-
pai and Sai Na. They are at a miserable little vil-
lage among the mountains, a day’s journey from
here. Both of them have the same cheerful, happy
spirit they always manifested when they were with
us in the schools in Peking. I asked Cheng-pai if
he ever regretted giving up his comfortable position
as interpreter to labor among these stolid, irre-
sponsive people; and he seemed surprised that I
could even ask such a question.

Sai Na is the proud possessor of a restless, clever
looking boy of three, whom—tell it not in Gath—she
calls Graham, in honor of father. Blossom and he
became firm friends immediately.

What shall I tell you about Shansi? It is a land
distinguished for the wealth of its minerals and the
poverty of its people. It is an unrivaled place for
acquiring a taste for salt fish, because fresh meat is
a luxury.

After we left the railroad at Paoting we came
over apace, making sometimes ten miles a day and
sometimes twenty. ‘Two-wheeled springless carts—
merely an exaggeration of what we see in Peking—
were our conveyances over the muddy plain as far
as the arm of the Great Wall on the boundary line

50
Ray's Letter from Shanst

of Shansi. They answered very well on the land,
but when we got stuck in the middle of the river
when fording the Huto, they had manifest disadvan-
tages. We were delayed so long in mid-stream that
we could not get to a kung kwan to stay over night,
and so betook ourselves to the nearest inn. The
sign-board bore the title “The Place of Heavenly
Rest.” This was enticing. After our jolting over
the abominable roads we felt in need of empyrean
refreshment. ‘The door-posts had been recently
papered with reassuring mottoes, one of which I de-
ciphered as “May happiness rest on all who enter.”
If I hadn’t been credulous, the fact that the proprie-
tor was forcibly ejecting a railing victim from the
gateway might have disturbed me—but confidence in
my fellow-men is my weakness. After picking our
way across a filthy courtyard we were ushered into
the guest chamber. The furniture was marked by
simplicity. It consisted of a k’ang and a table. Some
hens, looking extremely aged. were domesticated in
one corner. Blossom was delighted with the
“chuckies,” and the prospect of spending a night in
their vicinity made her clap her hands with glee. I
am fond of feathered fowl, but too much familiarity
breeds contempt. I explained to the landiord that
my peace of mind depended upon their removal. He
promised that my desire should receive his careful
consideration. He may have been still considering
it when I retired, for the hens were not removed.
Before daybreak an antiquated rooster set up a
querulous crow. I reached out. and sent my boot
at it, when immediately the hapless bird fell down
dead. It was so old it must have been near its last
gasp, anyway. In the morning the innkeeper was

51
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

inconsolable. That rooster was his companion, his
dear familiar friend, the apple of his eye. He doted
upon it, and he must have a recompense for it pro-
portionate to the intensity of his feelings. We paid
the exorbitant sum he demanded, whereupon his
grief visibly lightened.

Herbert had the most diverse experiences. In the
“Place of Heavenly Rest” the crowd swarmed into
the room to see us eat. To use their own expressive
idiom, they “stared themselves full.” The proprietor
made a show of keeping them out, but it was only
a show. He bustled about, saying: “Back from my
foreign guests; crowd no farther. Have you no
sense of the proprieties? This gentleman is one who
speaks doctrine. Pay respect to the teacher,” but
even his stinging rebuke: “You are not know-the-
Rites men,” failed to budge them.

Finally a middle-aged man was chosen as spokes-
man, and asked Herbert the usual questions as to his
distinguished surname, his honorable age, the dis-
tance to his ancestral home, the age of his venerable
parents, if he believed in filial piety, if his dis-
tinguished Emperor was a woman; how many sons
he had; how he got his linen so white, etc., etc., and
then, to Herbert’s delight, desired to “borrow light”
concerning the doctrine he taught.

Herbert began to preach immediately, and waxed
enthusiastic and eloquent. The man looked at him
so earnestly he hardly winked.

“Is there any question you would like to ask?”
said Herbert, when he had finished, and the man
appeared lost in thought.

“Was your face white when you were born?” in-
quired the man gravely.

52
Ray's Letter from Shanst

I couldn’t help laughing, Herbert was so discone
certed,

But at another place, distinguished by the title
“Unapproachable Purity,” where the pig-sty was
separated by only a slight partition from the guest-
rooms, a pedlar who had come down from the moun-
tain, recognized Herbert as one who had given him
a book some years ago. He drew out of his pocket a
copy of the Gospel of Mark, wrapped round and
round with blue cotton cloth.

“T have read about Jesus in this book,” said the
pedlar. “He was a great Teacher and a good Man.
My heart desires to know more about him. Who
was he? Why did they kill one who did such won-
derful deeds? I have thought about him often as I
walked along, and I want you to tell me of him.”

Herbert talked with him until far into the night.
The pedlar’s heart was prepared and eager, and he
became converted. It was one of those startling
transformations which defy explanation or disbelief,
and in the morning, as he accompanied us for some
distance, his face literally shone.

Real estate here is somewhat insecure. At any
time wind may sweep down, lift up all the light dust
on the surface of a farm, and transfer it to a neigh-
bor’s. ;

The road after Hwuyluh passes sometimes through
gorges thirty feet deep—roads which were once on
the level, but have been worn down by the incessant
traffic of generations, and blown over by the winds
of centuries. It gave me a weird feeling to think
that when Abram was making that untried journey
Canaanward from his kindred and his father’s house
in Ur of the Chaldees—even then Chinese traffic

53
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

was wending its way through this hill country, and
Chinese feet were treading down these pathways.

The exciting part of the journey was through the
mountains in a mule-litter. A mule-litter, my unin-
itiated Paul, is a generous-sized sedan-chair with pro-
jecting shafts which are attached to a mule in front
and a mule behind. It was a conveyance to rejoice
the heart after our jerking, jolting carts, if one is
not subject to seasickness. The track (I hesitate to
dignify such a humpty-dumpty zigzag footpath by
the name of road) wound on the ledges of moun-
tains with perpendicular cliffs of yellow stone on the
one hand, and sheer plunges one hundred feet deep
on the other. My mules had an inexplicable bias for
treading on the very edges of the abysses. I expressed
my opinion of their conduct to the driver in my most
forcible Mandarin; and as he smilingly protested he
could not understand me, I shouted “Hi! Hi!” to the
mules. This was equally ineffectual, so I devoted
myself to winding up my estate and setting my
affairs in order. Whenever I caught a glimpse of
what lay ahead I thought of your favorite form of
encouragement, “Cheer up, old fellow! the worst is
yet to come.”

Since reaching here I have been having what
Englishmen call a “soak.” I breakfast in bed in the
morning at nine and spend the rest of the day in
refraining from fatiguing exercise.

The amusements open to a foreigner in Pingting
are not noticeably disquieting. In fact, I have been
reduced to go to prayer-meeting for a diversion.

Just as I had written so far, Elsie ushered in—you
can’t guess whom, so I’ll tell you—Douglas Med-
hurst. He was as brown as a walnut and wore the

54
Ray's Letter from Shansi

Chinese dress. His figure looked positively gigantic
in the loose robes. The surveying party is near us,
so he ran over to see Herbert and Elsie. He did
not know that I had left Peking. I hope his delight
equaled his surprise at finding me, but “I hae my
doots,” for he appeared rather confounded by my
presence.

He brought Blossom a Chinese doll. Its nose and
ears were glued on, its pigtail stuck in at an angle
of forty-five degrees, and the rest of its features were
supplied with paint. Its expression is as unhappy
as Laocoon’s when enveloped by the serpents. But
it is a beauty in Blossom’s eyes, and the dear little
maiden’s most precious possession, next to the
“effelunt” book you gave her.

Dr. Medhurst has been using his camera in Shansi
and has some curious pictures mounted in pairs. He
gave me several to send home. ‘The contrast, of
course, means something. Mother will understand, if
you don’t. I like two best—the one with the gorgeous
landscape of mountains and ravines on the right and
on the left (the Chinese place of honor) the little
old woman bent double weeding in a millet patch
with three generations of sorrow in her face—and
the miniatures of Elsie and Sai Na. You mustn’t
think Douglas grouped these two women together to
exhibit how much more beautiful Elsie is than Sai
Na. He is too kind.to make such a comparison and
Elsie’s loveliness needs no offset to render it more
striking. It was to show that Sai Na’s scarred face,
lighted up by her intensity of feeling, has an attrac-
tiveness as well as Elsie’s chiseled perfection. And
Sai Na has the place of honor—the left.

It will be a week yet before Douglas starts home-

55
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

wards. I hope father will come for me as soon as
he returns. I am like a “pelican in the wilderness”
in this remote land. It is cause for thankfulness
that I have come to the end of this letter. I have

simply a lawless pen, one I am not in sympathy with,
and it defies me utterly.

Take good care of the little mother till I come.
Ever yours,

Ray GILMOUR,

56
CHAPTER V.
BEFORE DR. GILMOUR LEFT HOME

A few days after Paul received Ray’s letter,
a messenger stood at the door of the dispen-
sary in Peking. He had a contented, cheerful
face, with intelligence beaming from his
almond-shaped eyes, and when he smiled he
showed teeth which a London belle might have
envied. His garments were disordered and
bore the marks of hasty journeying. It was
Cheng-pai. He sent in his name to Dr. Gil-
mour, with a request for a speedy audience.

The doctor came at once. After warm greet-
ings to his old pupil, he inquired: “Are they
well in Shansi?”

“J am the bearer of painful tidings,” said
Cheng-pai, producing a note.

It was from Ray, and read:
Dear FatTHER:—

We have telegraphed three times, but received
no answer. Herbert is ill with typhoid fever, I fear.
Elsie has the gravest apprehensions because of his
recent heart trouble. She thinks if only you were

here you might save him. The two weeks before you
can get this word and come seem an interminable

57
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

period. Sai Na has left little Graham with his grand-
mother and is assistant nurse.

The cook, though mortally afraid of the fever,
sticks to his post.

If only Dr. Medhurst were home to look after
mother! ‘Tell her I long for the time when I shall
be with her again as watchers with the sick long
for the morning, and through my sympathy with
Elsie there shoots a gleam of selfish joy that soon
you will be with your own Ray.

Pinctinc, March 25, 1900.

Dr. Gilmour sent Cheng-pai to the guest
chamber to remove his travel-stains while he
went in search of his wife. He found her
teaching the cook’s chubby little boy to read.

She welcomed him with a bright smile. They
never met after a few hours’ absence but each
tried to show the other the pleasure it was to
be reunited.

The color left Mrs. Gilmour’s cheeks when
the doctor told her Cheng-pai’s errand; but
with characteristic energy she began to pre-
pare the necessary things for the journey.

“Ray will be exposed to the disease, Gra-
ham; you must let me go too.”

“That would be useless, Mary. You are not
strong enough to travel in such haste as we
must make.”

“How can I wait inactive here with both you

58
Before Dr. Gilmour Left Home

and Ray gone? It is so hard for me—worse
than the journey.”

“If you were less frail, Mary———” He hesi-
tated. “It could not be best for you to come,”
he said. “Your fears make you exagger-
ate Ray’s danger. She has never been delicate,
and typhoid, with proper precautions, is not
really contagious. If it please God to spare
Herbert, I will do all I can to insure him a
speedy convalescence; if not, I will bring Elsie
home with Ray. And now I must leave you,
to make arrangements for my work while I am
gone. We must start at three in the morning.
Do not tire yourself over my packing.”

In spite of gentle wooings, sleep that night
refused to visit the eyelids of either Dr. Gil-
mour or his wife.

“Graham,” broke forth Mrs. Gilmour at last,
“I wish we were not to be parted for such a
long time. A heavy presentiment of evil hangs
over me.”

“Foolish little wife,” said Dr. Gilmour. “Did
I ever leave you for twenty-four hours that
your fancy did not conjure up some monster
which was watching for a chance to steal me
from you?”

“I know I’m always imagining calamities
which never happen, Graham. It’s because I

59
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

love you so much and my life would be empty
without you. J’m like a woman who has in-
vested all her money in one precarious bank,
and who lives in constant danger of bank-
ruptcy.”

“Ray and Paul would be left you from the
wreckage, even if that unstable banking con-
cern were to go under,” said the doctor, play-
fully following out her figure.

“Yes, but they can never be to me all that
you are. The most perfect sympathy is be-
tween those of the same age. It is right that
Ray and Paul should carve out a future for
themselves in which they leave no prominent
place for us. We have drifted from our child-
hood moorings and so must they. And yet I
feel an unreasonable pang, aimost akin to jeal-
ousy, when I see how dissimilarity in years and
difference in training shuts me out from much
that makes up their life. I have struggled so to
keep my heart young. When I was a child
and saw middle-aged people with rigid ways
and uncompromising opinions, I used to re-
solve that I would never grow like that, but
would always preserve the elasticity of youth.
But somehow years make a difference in spite
of one’s self. Habits fasten on one uncon-
sciously, and the steady pressure of daily care

60
Before Dr. Gilmour Left Home

makes sports a hardship. I don’t want Ray
and Paul to be tied to my apron-strings, either ;
I like to see them working out life’s problems
and forming independent opinions. They are
so loving and thoughtiul, in so far as they un-
derstand, that I positively hate myself when I
care that they are happier with their young
friends when we are not present. It would
kill me to have them know how small I am.
I am only twenty-three years Ray’s senior.
What an impassable chasm a score of years
make! And yet I could lay down my life in
the children’s stead, and count myself happy
in the doing of it. I have always been exacting
in my loves, haven’t I, Graham? The unselfish
love that is satisfied without the fullest recip-
rocation is beyond my ken. And so I come
back to what I meant to say at the beginning,
dearest. You answer to my inner self. You
comprehend me in all my moods, and the fierc-
est trials of my life seem bearable when I am
with you. You have grown old with me, and
the years, instead of bringing separation, have
only bound us closer together. You give me
a feeling of rest, create a harmony within me.”

“I am very dependent on you for my happi-
ness,” said Dr. Gilmour. “I always have a sense
of disquiet when I am away from you. Not

61
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

that I picture dangers for you, but because you
are my complement, and have become so much
a part of myself that alone I’m like a man with
one hand. I do not feel as you do about Ray
and Paul. I am less intense than you. Then I
couldn’t be with them very much when they
were growing up. It is natural that you should
have some heart pangs when they unconsciously
exclude you from their pleasures, and choose
younger associates. Probably most loving
mothers who sacrifice the best portion of their
lives to their children, as you have done, go
through a similar experience. But the chil-
dren are in no way to blame. The nation is
built up by a man following the visions which
allure him in the future, and by his capabilities
of forming new ties and new friendships.”
“Iam wrong, as usual. Iam demanding the
impossible. I believe, Graham, that once and
only once in a lifetime there comes to all men
and women a supreme earthly love, intense as
the individual is capable of feeling; and, though
the person may, and does, have other loves
strong and deep, this one affection stands out,
clearly-defined, unapproachable, like Tai Shan
among the lesser hills. A lover may give this
gift of gifts to his betrothed, or a betrothed to
a lover; a mother to her children, or a father
62
Before Dr. Gilmour Left Home

to his son or daughter; a man may bestow it on
his profession, or a miser on his gold. But
whatever the object, it is the zenith of devo-
tion, reached only once in a lifetime. Our love
for each other is our master passion, and all
others, though bright and luminous, pale be-
fore it.”

“Tl turn over your theory in my mind and
see how it fits on to facts,” said Dr. Gilmour.

“T can prove it to you by citing biographical
evidence,” said Mrs. Gilmour, with a gay little
intonation. “Do you suppose ‘Pen’ Browning
did not receive lavish affection from both his
parents, and yet would his death have wrung
his father’s heart with such poignant grief as
beset it when his genius-crowned wife died.
Think of him pacing those lonely Florentine
corridors and sobbing, ‘I want her, oh, I want
her.’ Did Charles Kingsley’s wife ever have
any love equal to that for her ‘most true and
perfect knight’? For whom but for his darling
son William would Henry I have had his heart
so filled with gloom that his lips forgot their
trick of smiling? Isn’t Frank’s art wife and
child to him? And nobody in the wide world
could take little Eva’s place in St. Clare’s
heart.”

“Ah, wife, I challenge the proofs. You are

63
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

descending from the historical to the world of
romance in that last illustration.”

“Perhaps I am, but the characters in great
books always seem real to me. Logic couldn’t
convince me that Juliet didn’t lean out of a
casement in Verona to answer Romeo’s love
speeches; or, that Pendennis didn’t err and re-
pent in Old England; or that Maggie Tulliver
didn’t meet and master her strong temptation.
They wouldn’t be great books if they didn’t
represent people as they are.”

“See how far we have shifted from the theme
we started with,” said Dr. Gilmour.

“It’s always easy for me to get back to the
subject of my love for you,” laughed his wife.
“Do you suppose, Graham, I could keep my
faith in a wise, overruling Providence if you
were to be taken from me?”

“Why should that shake your trust, Mary?
You would not doubt the love of the Father if
his will was that I go to him a little before you,
would you? I might be an abject coward if
death faced me—I cannot tell—but, viewed
from a distance, if it were not for leaving you
and the children, it would mean to me just a
joyous home-coming after a long term at
school. Not that I have any sickly longing,
after death, nor that my work is not dear to!

64 °
Before Dr. Gilmour Left Home

me. More than ever I regard being permitted
to labor in China as a privilege, a sacred trust.

“In the years I have spent here I have
watched the career of many successful men
filling positions which brought honor and fame
—from Sir Robert Hart to Li Hung Chang—
but I have never seen one whose position had
not drawbacks equal to mine or one with whom
I would willingly exchange. We have had
hard work, discouragements, homesickness ;
we have been hampered by lack of money and
of leisure (few anywhere escape these fetters) ;
but we have had also consciences without re-
morse, the gladness of stretching out a helping
hand, and a happy home and children that a
crowned monarch might envy.”

“There is such a serenity about your life.
You have a great settled calm in your soul. I
am always crossing bridges before I come to
them. It’s the fault of a too-vivid imagination.
I have in my mind this minute two pictures
with the details well worked out. The first is
you in heaven, and I in a snug corner of Ray’s
house, perhaps knitting stockings (save the
mark!) for the family comfort. The other is
we two growing old side by side, with deepen-
ing joy in each other’s companionship, reading
and thinking more than we have time to do

65
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

now, and cultivating a predilection for spoiling
our grandchildren.”

“We will leave the future, wife. It is in wise
hands. Let us be thankful that we have had
so many happy years together. They are ours
and memory will keep the joy of them.”
CHAPTER VI
SHANSI TROUBLES

It was the eighth of April when Dr. Gilmour
and Cheng-pai entered the mission house at
Pingting.

Elsie met them. Her eyes were filled with
tears.

“I am so glad you are come, uncle,” she said,
with sadness in her voice.

“Am I too late to help Herbert?” asked the
doctor, divining the worst.

For answer, Elsie took him by the hand and
led him through the courtyard. There in the
corner lay a mound of newly-placed earth.

“He died four days ago,” said Elsie. “He
gradually weakened in spite of all we could do,
until at the last he just slept away. I think he
knew when the end was near, for at midnight
he asked for Blossom. We brought her to him,
and she put her little arms about his neck and
kissed him, and then fell asleep beside him.
When I lifted her up to take her away again
he said several times: ‘My fair little flower!
In the morning he had gone, we scarcely knew

67
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

when, his breathing was so quiet. The few
church-members buried him. One of the men
read in Chinese: ‘I am the resurrection and the
life, and offered a simple prayer. Poor little
Blossom cried to be put in the box with her
‘dear fadder.’ We buried him here, so that she
and I might see his grave often. It is foolish,
I know, but somehow I feel as if we were
nearer him.

“And, uncle,” Elsie went on, “how can I tell
you all? The worst for you is yet to come.
Ray took the fever the day Herbert died. Don’t
go just yet,” she said, laying a restraining hand
on the doctor’s arm, as he turned impulsively
to the house, “she is sleeping now. I hope I
am not to blame for her illness. I tried to
shield her, but she would take her turn in nurs-
ing Herbert, and we had so little help.”

The doctor could wait no longer.

“IT must see her, Elsie,” he said. His voice
was husky.

They went indoors together. On a _ bed
drawn out in the center of an airy room Ray
lay with closed eyes.

“Father,” she cried, rousing and stretching
out her hands, “You’ve come at last. I'll soon
get better now. Tell me about mother and
Paul.”

68
Shanst Troubles

“Sai Na,” said Cheng-pai, when he was alone
with his wife, “it is unfortunate that Miss Gil-
mour should have taken the fever now. I wish
with all my heart all foreigners were safe in
Peking within reach of the Legations. The
country is in a regular ferment. In a large
number of the towns and villages we passed
through, bands of the Righteous Harmony
Fists, as they call themselves, were practising
with guns and long knives, and volunteers are
flocking to them from everywhere. They say
that by some art they can render themselves
invulnerable, even from a shot ofa rifle. When
we were at Yu-lu an old man said to me it
would be a good thing if the foreign mission-
aries were out of the country, because their
presence was drawing attention to the native
Christians.”

“Is Dr. Gilmour alarmed?” asked Sai Na.

“Not as much as there is reason for,” said
Cheng-pai. “He can’t measure the depths of
hate the people of the Flowery Kingdom have
for foreigners. He sees the best side of them
in the hospital work. Even a cur won’t bite
the hand that does it good, and though he is
thoughtful of others, he always seems careless
of danger for himself. He thinks these are
lawless bands, and that the troops of His Ex-

69
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

cellency the Emperor will make short work of
them if they go too far. But they claim to be
acting with the royal sanction. Their motto is:
‘Exalt the dynasty and extirpate the foreign-
ers.’ I copied one of the placards I saw posted
up. It reads:

“Our Emperor is about to become powerful.’

“*The leader of the Boxers is a royal per-
son.’

“Within three months all foreigners will be
killed or driven away from China.’

“During forty years the Empire has become
full of foreigners.’

“ “They have divided the land.’

“‘Come and kill them,’

“Unless this summons is obeyed you will
lose your head.’

“I came on from Yu-lu to get you and learn
how Mr. Andersen was. My honorable mother
is so timid, she besought me to return at once,
and I promised her I would. We must set out
early in the morning.”

“T pine for a sight of my little Graham,
Cheng-pai, but it is my duty to stay with Ray
as long as she is here. What if she should die,
too? I should ‘lose my face’ forever to Mrs.
Gilmour if I were to leave her now. And Elsie
might take the fever any day. She looks ifh

7O
Shanst Troubles

You go to-morrow, and I will come home with
Dr. Gilmour, whether it is sooner or later. You
say our boy Graham is well?”

“The image of health, Sai Na.”

“He has not forgotten his mother, Cheng-
pai?”

“No, he spoke of you often.”

“Well, I should be content then to stay a
little longer when you will be with him.”

Sai Na went about her work crooning in a
grating, metallic voice:

“ My little baby, little boy blue,

Is as sweet as sugar and cinnamon too;
Isn’t this precious darling of ours
Sweeter than dates and cinnamon flowers.”

On her entrance into the world, Sai Na had
had the misfortune to appear as a girl. Her
parents had prayed that their first-born might
be a male child; but the gods were stone deaf.
The disappointment was grievous and the
mother turned her face to the wall and died.
Sai Na grew for ten years, neglected and
abused, until one day her grandmother, who
was a passionate woman, in a fit of anger,
branded the child’s face with red-hot irons.
Then she was thrown in an outhouse to die.
One girl less in that swarming country where
there was scarcely bread enough for the boys’

7X
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

mouths—what could it matter? Dr. Gilmour
chanced to find her and, being told that he
might have her and welcome, in pity carried
the starved, seared little heap of bones home,
and delivered her to the care of his wife.
Mrs. Gilmour nursed Sai Na back to life, and
then the question arose, “What is to be done
with the waif?”

“If I wanted to send her away, Graham,”
said Mrs. Gilmour, “where could she go?”

As this was a stubborn question, Sai Na had

“stayed at the mission compound. She proved
to be a very good student and graduated at the
Girls’ High School. After serving a term as
nurse in the hospital she had married Cheng-
pai and had gone with him to Yu-lu.

Elsie Andersen and Sai Na were of the same
age. They made a strange contrast, Elsie
with her tall form and well-poised head
upon which great masses of black hair were
coiled; Sai Na small, shrinking and disfigured,
with the painful self-consciousness which a
physical blemish gives to a sensitive nature.
But underneath Sai Na’s marred exterior was
concealed a nature that rivaled Elsie’s in stead-
fastness and ardor.

72
CHAPTER VII
THE CAVE

Three days after his arrival at Pingting Dr.
Gilmour despatched a “boy” with a letter to his
wife:

Pinetine, April 11th, 1900.
Mary, My Dearest:

It pains me to have to tell you what must needs
be told. Herbert had passed away when I arrived.
His body rests here among his people, as he would
have wished.

I have to write you something now that will cause
you apprehension, but you will believe me when I
say that I will state the exact truth so far as I ama
judge, neither softening nor concealing anything.

Ray has contracted the fever, but has only a slight
attack, in which, as yet, there are no alarming symp-
toms. The worst which I foresee from it is that it
will detain us a couple of weeks longer and keep
you nervously waiting for us, and I know you will
find that a wearing ordeal.

Your first thought will be that you must come
to Ray. But that would not be wise, Mary. I will
give her my undivided attention and (in so far as my
obtuse masculine perceptions admit) will be to her
what you would were you here.

I found the country more disturbed than we in the
capital realize. The Anti-Foreign Society is spread-

73
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

‘ing from Shangtung into Chilhi and Shansi. No
doubt the Imperial troops will soon disperse these
bands, but while they are abroad it would be rash
for you to leave Peking. I have no fears for our own
safety. We shall, if it please God, start homeward
in about two weeks, and we shall be happier for our
brief separation.

Cheng-pai felt uneasy about some reports of trou-
ble in his own neighborhood, as we were passing
through, and went back home the day after our ar-
rival here. I advised Sai Na to go with her hus-
band, knowing that her mother’s heart felt draw-
ings toward her little son, my namesake, but she
was resolute and has stayed with Ray.

She and Cheng-pai are a noble pair. A lifetime of
arduous service in China would be a paltry price to
pay to win trophies such as these for Jesus Christ.

Ray is conscious and cheerful. She delighted us
this morning with a turn of speech in her old-time
humor. She is extremely solicitous, as I am, lest
her illness should cause you anxiety.

I hope Douglas is with you. Elsie will come home
with us for a rest. She is worn, and her quiet resig-
nation is another proof of her grave, placid nature.
Blossom is the antidote to her sorrow. She is the
most ethereal child. She divides her affections im-
partially among us all.

Tell Paul I rest satisfied because I have committed
to his care you, my most precious possession, and I
know he will guard my treasure tenderly.

Yours as always,
GRAHAM GILMOUR.

Ray improved steadily in the budding April
74
The Cave

weather. She had begun to sit up a little
during the day and to enjoy in a dreamy lan-
guor the sensations of the balmy spring. Blos-
som filled Ray’s lap with grass and leaves, and
read to her out of her “effelunt” book, with
the page turned upside down. There was a
strong sympathy between the two. Ray was
not fond of children as a rule, they wearied her
after a time; but Blossom was such a quiet,
unobtrusive little fairy that Ray found pleas-
ure in watching her sunny happiness. She
might not have been so interested had she been
in Peking with her favorite pursuits to occupy
her time and attention—but here, where
she had nothing to do but to be quiet and
get well, to lie and look at Blossom’s pure,
sweet face was her favorite diversion.

Outside, the Boxer movement was stealthily
creeping up towards Pingting. The officials
either could not or would not restrain it.

Dr. Gilmour was now keenly alive to the
gravity of the situation and busied himself pre-
paring everything for flight. He carefully con-
cealed his fears from Ray lest her recovery
might be retarded; but her perceptions were
keen, and a chance word or two aroused her
suspicion. She questioned her father, and he,
deeming truth the best, told her of their peril.

75
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

“Let us set out to-day, father. I am well
enough, and the thought that I am hazarding
you all brings me misery,” said Ray.

Dr. Gilmour took up Ray’s wasted band and
laid it down half sadly.

“Tf only we could have given you time to
gain more strength,” he said, “but I have com-
pleted the arrangements for us to go the day
after to-morrow. Do not dissipate your energy
by over-anxiousness, Ray. You must hoard
it for the journey. Think of pleasant things—
of the little mother and Paul in Peking. Every
day will bring us nearer to them. Pleasant
thoughts are a patient’s best tonic, so indulge
in them freely.”

That night Dr. Gilmour was roused by a hur-
ried knocking at the gate of the compound.
When he opened it a native Christian, agitated
and breathless, presented himself.

“Honorable teacher,” he gasped, “make haste
to leave this place. I have run nine li to warn
you. The Boxers have set fire to the homes of
the Christians. Some of the men and women
they bound with cords and threw alive into the
flames. When they tried to crawl out the
Boxers beat them back with their long knives.
It is a slow and bitter death that I do not
like to think of,” said the man.

76
The Cave

“But you and the Christians here?” asked Dr.
Gilmour. “What will you do? Could I help
you if I stayed?”

“Your kindness fills me with gratitude, but
we are better off without you. The Boxers
don’t care whether we serve Booddha or Con-
fucius; but if we are Jesus-men they think we
have become barbarians.”

“I might get the magistrate to protect you,”
said the doctor.

“Some of his followers from the yamen were
helping the Boxers, so there is nothing to be
hoped for from him. We are in God’s hands
and must abide his will,” said the man, with
the passiveness so characteristic of the Chi-
nese when called upon to submit to the
inevitable.

Dr. Gilmour called Lung Te, the cook, and
despatched him for the mule-litters already
ordered for the journey; then he roused the
women and explained the need for an immedi-
ate departure.

He was a man ordinarily very calm; his
temperament inclining almost to the phleg-
matic; but in times of danger he became alert
and active, quick of eye and ear.

He packed the litters now with quiet and
despatch. He remembered to pile the pillows

77
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

as Ray liked them; he put Blossom’s doll and
book in his pocket, and superintended the
work of Elsie and Sai Na.

Lung Te, the cook, was to go with them as
far as Yu-lu. He was a faithful fellow, but
an abject coward. During Mr. Andersen’s
illness he prepared meals and ran errands with
a dog-like fidelity; but persuasion could not
have induced him to go near the sick man’s
room or sleep under the same roof. He was
almost paralyzed with fear now and physically
unable to give much help.

Ready at last, they stumbled out through the
gloom over the uneven roads, listening with
strained alertness for the sound of their ene-
mies, and trembling at even the voices of the
drivers as they shouted to the mules.

Elsie pressed little Blossom more closely to
her breast, and wept in the darkness thinking
of the grave in the deserted courtyard.

Dr. Gilmour was a brave man, yet he felt
the tension of hourly expecting a hideous
danger against which he had no adequate
means of defending the women and himself.

In one place where they stopped to rest the
mules, the innkeeper drove them away with
angry threats.

“You shall not come here to poison my

738
The Cave

wells,” he cried, gesticulating wildly; “leave
my premises at once, or my servants shall
compel you to go. I know now why two men
died so suddenly in the village this morning.
You have been tampering with the water.”

It was noon before they reached Yu-lu. In
the morning they passed an excited group,
among whom, stirring them up to fury, were
ferocious-looking men wearing the Boxer uni-
form and brandishing their long sharp knives
to accentuate their speech. The women shud-
dered and drew the curtains of their litter
more closely.

Cheng-pai’s home was a small building, pre-
senting, as most houses do in China, a stretch
of blank wall to the street, having the rooms
opening on to a courtyard in the interior. While
maintaining its native character, inside there
were evidences of contact with Western
civilization. The windows were of glass,
instead of glazed paper; a big clock ticked
away the hours, and between the red mottoes
bearing Chinese sentiments hung the Lord’s
Prayer in English. Two younger brothers of
Cheng-pai and his mother lived with him.

There was some agitation among the inmates
of the little dwelling. Cheng-pai and his
brothers, eating their noonday meal of salt

79
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

fish and millet, were talking with grave, per-
turbed faces. Their mother, near, joined in
the conversation in a fretful treble.

“The Taotai has taken down the proclama-
tion friendly to foreigners and native Chris-
tians from the yamen wall; and he has had
orders from the governor, Yu Hsien, that he
is not to protect or aid any one even known
to favor them,” said Cheng-pai. “I must go
for Sai Na to-night and warn Dr. Gilmour.”

“Sai Na! you always think of her first,” said
his mother, peevishly. “But you have adopted
the ways of the barbarians, and it is their wont
to make much of their wives.”

“We can scarcely spare you now,” said
Cheng-pai’s brother, who fellowshiped his
mother’s belief that Sai Na’s fate was of very
secondary importance to their own. “I have
just received word that the Boxers are advanc-
ing, and that our village is a marked spot. We
must consider how we may best fortify our-
selves in case of attack.”

“Ah! Cheng-pai!” broke forth his mother,
“You see, I always said evil would come upon
us when you took down the tablets and
neglected the worship of your ancestors. As
if it were not enough that you should give up
your official position at Peking, but you must

80
The Cave

bring destruction down upon our heads. And
what is your Yasu [Jesus] better than Con-
fuscius, anyway? But it was always your way
to win a cat and lose a cow.”

“Honorable mother!” said Cheng-pai, with
no trace of resentment at her reproaches. “I
will neglect no means of defending you from
danger. Do you wish me to take you where
you will feel more secure?”

“No!” she said pettishly. “‘ Where should I
go? I have no love for strange faces, and I
know all my sons are determined to stay
here.”

An interruption occurred in the bounding
in of a little almond-eyed, black-haired fellow
of about three years old, quaintly dressed in
long trousers, with a loose, shirt-like garment
falling over them. He had a broad back and
a sturdy, upright carriage, and his baby face
wore a habitual expression of gravity. Havy-
ing been accustomed, in his short life-
time to flattering attention, his manner was
easy and assured. He clambered up on
Cheng-pai’s knee, confident of finding grace in
his father’s eyes.

“Graham saw a mule in the courtyard,” the
child announced, and the next moment Sai Na
had darted into the room.

81
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

“Thank God you are safe,” she cried, catch-
ing up little Graham, and smelling his soft
brown cheek again and again.

Cheng-pai hurried out to Dr. Gilmour.
“Can you persuade your mule-drivers to go
on with you?” he asked anxiously.

“No,” said the doctor, “for some reason they
mutinied this morning, and refused to carry
us any longer. It was only by dint of bribes
and threats that I induced them to bring us
this far.”

“Come in and rest for the present,” said
Cheng-pai. “Troublous times are upon us
here.”

Cheng-pai drew Dr. Gilmour aside when the
women had withdrawn.

“The Magistrate of this District,” he said,
“has issued a proclamation and posted it every-
where on the walls, that whoever shelters a
foreigner or aids him in any way, even to giving
him a drink of water, he and his household
shall die. The knowledge of that may have
made your mule-drivers reluctant to proceed
this morning. The Boxers have committed
so many outrages near us that the Christians
are intimidated.”

“Then you are endangering your life and
those dearest to you now by housing us,” said

82
The Cave

Dr. Gilmour. “Have. you procured us con-
veyances, as I sent word to you to do? We
will go forward at once.”

“I have vainly spent two days without being
able to get you so much as a wheelbarrow.
Money will not tempt the people. But I have
been thinking of a plan. There is, about a
mile out of the village, a long, narrow cave, of
which no one:knows but myself. I happened
upon it one day in my walk. It was evidently
once inhabited, for it has a large stone
for a door, which runs in a groove, though the
grass has grown up and almost covered it.
At the farther end were chinks enough to let
in the air. It is dark and damp, but if you
could hide there until to-morrow night, I
might find a way of escape for you. I will
go over the mountain to Si-chu early in the
morning, and, as it is out of the jurisdiction of
our Magistrate, perhaps I can hire you litters
or carts and send them over to-morrow night.
I know the people, for I frequently preach
there. The cave is no fit place for Miss Gil-
mour in her feeble condition. I would gladly
keep you here, but I could not conceal you.
I am a suspected man, and already to-day my
premises have been searched by my officious
neighbors, whose heart of spying will not be

83
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

awed. Nothing is a secret in a village of the
Flowery Kingdom. What is told in the ear
is often heard a hundred miles off.”

“You are thinking more of our safety and
welfare than of your own, I fear, Cheng-pai,”
said Dr. Gilmour.

“Tf I were, I should be doing what you have
taught me by your worthy example. If you
will choose but the most necessary part of your
belongings we will carry them to the cave,
with food and rush-lights.”

“Seeing that you are in such peril, Cheng-
pai, why not bring your household to Peking
with us? I could find employment for you
until this storm blows over.”

“IT must stay,” said Cheng-pai calmly. “I
am the shepherd of the flock, and when the
wolf is nigh I am most needed to watch over
the sheep.”

“But Sai Na?” suggested the Doctor.

A shade passed over his face.

“Sai Na and Graham,” he said, “it is hard
for them. If Sai Na wished me to go to Peking
I would not refuse. But I have asked her, and
she thinks I ought not to desert my people.
She is a very steadfast woman.”

“T have had proof of that in her devotion to
Ray,” said Dr. Gilmour.

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The Cave

There was busy unpacking and repacking,
and when it became dark again the little band
were ready to set out.

Cheng-pai led the evening prayer before
they separated.

“Our Father, we thank thee for the fellow-
ship of our companions which we have enjoyed.
We have taken sweet counsel together, and
have rejoiced that thy name is revered in our
hearts.

“We commit our lives and these of our
beloved into thy hand. Do with us as
seemeth best in thy sight. If we are called
upon to suffer, strengthen us, O thou who
wast a man of sorrows, and acquainted with
grief. Save us from knowing anything of
the gnawing anguish which follows a denial
of thee.

“There come to us, in exalted moments,
glimpses of the rare beauty of thy character,
and we feel that to do simply right, whatever
may be the consequences, is a thing worth
living and dying for. Confirm us in our
loyalty to goodness.

“And those who are committed to our care—
some of them but babes in Christ, understand-
ing but dimly thy love and the reality of the
life which is to come—may they see thee with

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

clearer vision and realize that if they suffer
with theé, they will also reign with thee.

“Be with each of us, O Lord, as we go our
separate ways, never perhaps to meet again
on earth. We thank thee that thou hast pre-
pared a place for us where separations are not;
where love and joy are perpetual because thou
art there; where thou thyself dost wipe the
tears from the eyes of thy people and dwell
among them.

“May we meet in that Holy City where we
will ascribe all honor to the Father, Son and
Holy Spirit. Amen.”

There was a tender leave-taking of Sai Na,
then they turned their faces out into the night.
Lung Te and Cheng-pai and his brothers
accompanied them, carrying food and water
and wraps.

They found the cave with difficulty. It
looked like a simple mound of earth. Inside,
it had a circular roof and curving sides.
Judging by its formation, it had probably been
scooped out of the rock in bygone centuries
by the action of water.

“At dark to-morrow night I hope to send
you the means of release from this dismal
spot,” said Cheng-pai. “I will set out for
Si-chu at the first streak of dawn.”

86
The Cave

“You heap up benefits upon me, Cheng-pai,
and confer most favors when I am least able
to repay you,” said Dr. Gilmour.

“It is I who am your debtor for past kind-
nesses,” said Cheng-pai. He hesitated a
moment, and then said in a low voice:

“If I were to die soon, and Sai Na be left,—
it might be so, one cannot see into the future,—
my brothers would provide for my honorable
mother and Graham—but Sai Na... . there
is no one to care for her. If it were in your
power .... you would protect—you would
not fail her?” he asked, stammeringly.

“My offers of help seem useless enough
now, imprisoned as I am by circumstances,”
answered the doctor, “but should the time
come when I am free and Sai Na is in need,
Ray’s welfare shall be no less dear to me than
hers.”

Cheng-pai folded his hands on his breast and
bowed silently, as he passed out with his
brothers and Lung Te. They rolled the stone-
door into position carefully.

The next day was long and wearing. They
could tell that it was sunny outside by the
light which penetrated through the fissures.
The damp, dank smell of the cave sickened
little Blossom, who was very sensitively,

87
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

organized, and she was feverish and could not
eat.

Dr. Gilmour chafed at the enforced inaction.
He moved nervously about for hours, then,
wearied out, lay down and slept.

“What sweet lulling deceits dreams often
are, Ray,” he said, on awakening. ‘I had for-
gotten that such a country as China existed,
and I have been back in Boston with your
mother in the days before we were married.
I saw her as she used to look, flitting over the
lawn, shaded by the big horse-chestnut tree
at her home. You do not resemble her as
she was then. She was slight and frail and
very implusive in her manner. I counted
myself the happiest man on earth when I won
her, and well I might. She has been my
‘comrade’ ever since. But I never felt worthy
of her.”

He was talking half to himself in an ab-
stracted fashion. Evidently his thoughts were
with his ‘“ comrade.”

Ray interrupted his reverie.

“Father,” she said, “ I blame myself for our
present trouble. If I had never come to Shansi
and had not taken the fever, we wouldn’t be
here in terror of our lives.”

“You lay the blame on the wrong shoulders,

88
The Cave

Ray,” he said, smiling at her serious face. “If
you want to trace out causes why don’t you
go back to first ones, and say that if I had never
come to China we wouldn’t be hiding from the
light of day in such a cavern as this? We
must not blame ourselves for unfortunate
issues of right actions which none of us could
foresee.”

He was gratified to note that the shadow
passed from Ray’s brow. Long years of habit
had made it almost a necessity with him to
alleviate, if possible, any distress, whether
mental or physical. There are rare souls so
habituated to self-forgetting that their acutest
sorrow comes through their sympathies with
those they love.

“Uncle,” said Elsie, “see how hot Blossom’s
temples are. Do you think she is seriously
ill?”

The doctor took the fragile form in his arms,
and examined her carefully.

“I think it is only a temporary indisposition,
Elsie,” he said. “She is truly a little blossom
and wilts away from the air and sunshine.
To-morrow, out of doors, I hope she will
revive.”

She was languid, and would have remained
in the doctor’s arms, but Elsie took her again.

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

Elsie was calm and matter-of-fact, with a much
greater stock of common sense than sentiment;
but the intensity of her mother-love stood out
prominently as something positive in her
otherwise rather neutral character.

Blossom’s beauty and winsomeness made
some maternal pride pardonable. The child
created an atmosphere of kindliness about her.
By a certain fineness. of instinct combined
with a happy disposition, she was seldom
obtrusive, even when constantly among older
people.

“Mudder,” she said, speaking in one of the
long pauses of the long day, “is heaven in the
ground?”

“No, darling,” said Elsie, “heaven is in the
sky. Why do you ask?”

“Because they put fadder in the ground,
and you said he went to heaven.”

Elsie tried to explain to her the difference
between the soul and body.

The child looked grave, but failed to under-
stand.

“T don’t want to go to heaven,” she said
decidedly.

“Why, Blossom, what makes you say that?”
asked Ray, laughing at the little skeptic.

“°Cos I’d have to be put in the ground, and

go
The Cave

it would smell like this place,” said Blossom,
with a movement of her delicate nostrils.

“We will soon take Blossom away from this
dark cave,” said Elsie soothingly.

Evening came with its long twilight. The
twilight melted into night. At last, at one of
the apertures of the cave, they heard a low
whistle, the signal which had been agreed
upon of Cheng-pai’s presence. Dr. Gilmour
answered it, and went to the door. It was
rolled away by a vigorous hand, and there
entered—not Cheng-pai, but a large, sinewy
man, so tall that he could not stand upright
without knocking his head against the roof.

“Douglas Medhurst,” said Dr. Gilmour,
amazed, hardly knowing whether his senses
were cheating him or not.

But Ray had no such doubts. They had
been so helpless, so forlorn, and Dr. Medhurst’s
presence brought a revival of hope of com-
munication with the outside world which made
her spring forward and seize his great dirty
brown hand in her soft white ones.

“Douglas! Douglas!” she said, “what a wel-
come apparition! What quarter of the com-
pass did you drop from? And how did you
know we were here?”

She had never called him Douglas before,

gi
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

and would not have done so now but for the
excitement of his unexpected appearance. His
strong hand trembled in the grasp of the slight
woman’s fingers. He was more excited than
She. He would have liked to take her in his
arms and to whisper his joy that he had found
her.

He summoned his self-control and answered,
“T come from the northeast corner, where
Peking is located, and as to how I knew you
were here—‘thereby hangs a tale.’”

“Mrs. Andersen, I have heard of your loss,”
he said, quietly, as Elsie came forward, carrying
Blossom asleep. “We could ill-afford to spare
so enthusiastic a soldier as your husband from
the ranks.”

As Douglas moved nearer the shaded light,
they saw that his eyes were bloodshot, and the
lids inflamed and swollen. His bony face was
haggard and covered with dust; and to add to
his uncouth appearance a stubby beard of
days’ growth bristled over his lips and chin.

“You are not well, Douglas,” said Dr. Gil-
mour. “You look as if you had just emerged
from a battlefield.”

“T’ve not been fighting anything more tan-
gible than the dust of this friable soil, I’m
decorated with imperial yellow enough,” he

92
The Cave

answered, glancing at the fine dirt which clung
persistently to him, “to excite the suspicion
of the Emperor himself. I feel like one of the
unregenerate. I would be glad to have a
wash. Is this all the water you have here?” he
asked quietly, examining the pail to which Dr.
Gilmour conducted him.

“Yes,” said the doctor.

“Then,” said Douglas, “if you will excuse
my unkempt appearance I will not use any of
that precious liquid. We may need it on our
journey. It is not easy just now to obtain even
a cup of cold water.”

“You come from Peking, Douglas,” said Dr.
Gilmour. “How did you leave Mrs. Gilmour?”

“As well as usual, but very anxious about
you all.”

“What is the state of affairs in Peking?”
asked the doctor.

“They look ominous. Kwang Su is power-
less, and the Empress Dowager appears to be
favorable to the Boxers. At any rate, she is
not restraining them. The Boxer movement
is advancing nearer and nearer the capital.”

“Why did you leave Mrs. Gilmour and Paul,
Douglas?” said the doctor, reproachfully. “I
would feel safer if I knew you were with
them.”

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

“That last sentence is exactly what Mrs.
Gilmour said when she sent me,” said Douglas
smiling. “She would have come herself if I
had not. I think no harm will befall her and
Paul. I ran over to Major Conger, and he
promised to defend them under the American
authority if there was need. The safest place
in China now is by the Legations. Even if
the worst happened, the Empress Dowager is
too astute and too well-versed in international
etiquette to injure the ambassadors of foreign
countries or their followers.”

“You haven’t unraveled the mystery of your
knowledge of our whereabouts, Dr. Medhurst,”
suggested Ray.

“To go a long way back, I was detained in
Honan by the prostration of a young English-
man of our party, the unfortunate younger son
of a titled aristocrat. He had been fed out of a
silver spoon all his days, knew nothing what-
ever of hardships, and, as any one might have
foretold, succumbed to toilsome journeys and
bad water. The others had to go on, so I
stayed to nurse the boy. Just as he was get-
ting better, he heard that the surveyors were
near Taiyuan, so he wilfully started to join
them, taking a native servant, who worships
his shadow, with him. I went to Shanghai

94
The Cave

and sailed to Peking. When I got there, Mrs.
Gilmour had your letter. That was the first
I knew of your absence and Mr. Andersen’s
death and Miss Gilmour’s illness.”

“How long ago is that, Douglas?” asked the
doctor.

“Four days. I set out the next morning.”

“How did you come from Paoting?”

“I rode a shambling donkey the first day—
after that I walked. It was much the quickest
way and time was precious.”

“You walked, Dr. Medhurst?” said Ray in
astonishment. “If you had had wings you
couldn’t have come faster.”

“The thought of your danger was wings
enough,” he said. She shrank under the
burning meaning she saw in his deep-set gray
eyes, and he would have given much if he
could have recalled his words.

“Did you go to Cheng-pai’s home?” asked
the doctor of Douglas.

“No! I saw Cheng-pai at Si-chu. When our
survey party passed through the town a couple
of months ago, I removed a growth from the
eyes of a yamen servant called Tung. The
man seemed grateful, and though I hated to
trade, as it were, on his gratitude, necessity
compelled me to find out whether his master

95
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

were friendly to foreigners, as our safety in
passing through the district under his juris-
diction depended upon his attitude. The
saddest thing about being a refugee at this
time is, that we cannot ask a kindness from
any one without exposing those who aid us to
the very misery we ourselves are trying to
escape. I can’t say that Tung was raptur-
ously glad to see me. He admitted me with
fear and trembling, and was manifestly uneasy
during my brief stay. Tung is a Christian, he
says, but he fears to confess his faith openly
lest he should lose his position and ultimately
his head. He is an only son, and his parents
and family are dependent upon his earnings.
Duty is not always a clearly-defined course
when our lives are involved with others. He
is a good creature, for he took me into his
inner room and showed me Cheng-pai, whom
he was sheltering at his peril. Our brave
little graduate was lying on the floor, unable
to move. He had been seized by a mob and
dragged to the temple. Because he would not
burn incense before the idol, they gave him a
beating with bamboo rods. It was: pitiful,”
said Douglas, shading his face with his hands,
“the inhumanity of Chinese punishments lies
on me like a weight. What I can do to miti-
96
The Cave

gate their atrocity seems as efficacious as try-
ing to beat down the Great Wall with puny
blows from my fist. Pardon me, Miss Gil-
mour,” he continued, seeing her white face (he
seemed to note every expression of it), “I
should not talk of these things in your pres-
ence.”

“ Go on,” she said, “I would be faint-hearted
if I could not bear even to hear what poor
Cheng-pai has been compelled to experience.”

“He forgot his aches when he saw me, in
his delight that he could send you word of
his errand. He found two mule-drivers who
would be willing to take you over the moun-
tain in consideration of a good round sum—
about ten times the usual fare—but they had
already made an engagement for the day,
which bribes could not make them break, and
they could not be back at Si-chu until to-night.
They returned to the village while I was there.
Their mules were completely fagged out and
cculd not go farther without a rest. The
muleteer whom Tung brought to me seemed
a trustworthy man, and vowed by the memory
of Confucius and whatever else he held dear,
that he would be here by three in the morn-
ing. I tried to do what I could to ease Cheng-
pai before I came away.”

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

“Perhaps he did not suffer as much as you
thought,” said Dr. Gilmour. “You know how
obtuse the Chinese nervous system is and how
they will undergo operations, without wincing,
that no European or American could stand
without chloroform.”

“Cheng-pai said this was very severe,”
answered Douglas. “It seemed to him the
beating lasted for days, the agony was so
intense.”

“Have you seen Sai Na, Dr. Medhurst?”
asked Elsie.

“No, Cheng-pai asked me not to expose her
to danger by going near them, even to tell
about his welfare. He explained accurately
where you were, and gave me some undertoned
lessons in the art of whistling the signal.”

“What kind of weather is it outside, Doug-
las?” asked the doctor. “Sounds are all
deadened to us here.”

“It is as dark as a black cat, and wind enough
to raise a duststorm.”

To their surprise Dr. Medhurst’s head
dropped on his bosom and his eyes closed.

“Douglas! Douglas! what is the matter?”
said Dr. Gilmour. “Bring the light, Ray.”

Douglas roused himself with difficulty.

“Pardon me,” he said drowsily. “It is some

98
The Cave

time since I have hada sleep. I believe I was
overcome.”

“Poor fellow!” said Dr. Gilmour, “we ought
to have remembered that you have walked day
and night since you left Paoting.”

“TI don’t need any sympathy,” said Douglas.
“Let me see, it is eleven now. I can get a few
hours’ rest before the litters come, and then
‘MacGregor will be himself again.’ ”

“How thoughtless we have been!” said Ray,
while she and Elsie hastily arranged some
comforters.

“You limp,” said Dr. Gilmour, as Douglas
crossed the cave towards the bundles he had
brought with him.

“It’s nothing! merely an inglorious blister
or two,” he said lightly.

“Your shoes are worn off your feet, Doug-
las.”

“They are in rather a bad plight, that’s a
fact,” said Douglas, looking down ruefully.
“But I have others with me for the return trip.”

Overtaxed Nature was asserting her sway
again over Douglas, and his voice shaded off
into a dozy whisper.

Dr. Gilmour led him to the bed, and in an
instant he was in a deep slumber. It occurred
dreamily to him as he closed his eyes that he

99
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

would have gone to sleep if the cave had been
full of dynamite, and some one was just light-
ing a fuse to it.

In covering Douglas, Dr. Gilmour’s eyes met
a sight that stirred his pity. The soles of
Dr. Medhurst’s feet were bare and inflamed
with cuts and blisters, which were disfigured
by the yellow soil of the region. The lower
parts of his shoes and stockings had worn out,
and the uppers hung fastened around his
ankles.

“Ray and Elsie, bring water and what white
rags you can find, and come here.”

A great compassion moved in Ray’s heart
when she saw the bruised, bleeding feet of
the worn-out giant. She began to understand
something of the great love of this powerful
man who braved dangers and was indifferent
to his own sufferings, for her sake. “And I
have laughed at his attitudes and cared nothing
for the pain I have given him,” she said to her-
self in condemnation. “Paul is right; I don’t
recognize a man when I see one. It is only a
carpet-knight who finds favor in my eyes.”

As for Douglas, he was unconscious alike of
Ray’s feeling and the doctor’s binding up of
his wounds. Sleep had laid a heavy hand on
his faculties.

100
CHAPTER VIII
THE RESCUE OF SAI NA

“You look heavy-eyed,” said Dr. Gilmour to
Ray and Elsie. “I wish you would lie down
and rest until the litters come. It will help to
brace you for the journey.”

They were wearied with the monotony of
the long day and gladly obeyed.

Dr, Gilmour packed everything but the bed-
ding, and listened feverishly for the sound of
any approach. None came. He cautiously
moved the stone away and gazed out into the
night. The wind was blowing and it was very
dark. Some dust sifted on his hand as he held
it against the breeze. Tired of inaction, he
ventured out into the darkness. Perhaps the
mule-drivers had missed finding that obscure
spot. The road was too narrow for the litters
to pass him without his notice, and he ran no
risk, for, even if he met any one, nobody would
recognize him in that thick gloom. He took
the path to the village, feeling his way by
means of the cliff which formed an upright
wall along the highway. He had walked some

101
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

distance when a sudden light shot up into the
sky. He paused to watch it until it became a
lurid glare. Turning a corner abruptly he
beheld the leaping flames. The truth flashed
upon him. It was the mission compound.
Conflicting thoughts darted through his mind.
Where was Sai Na? He had promised to aid
her if she were defenseless—and Cheng-pai
was this moment suffering cruelly because he
had tried to befriend him. With a prayer on
his lips for Ray’s safety he dashed forward.

He felt some one pull his sleeve as he came
within the arena lighted by the blazing house.
It was Lung Te, Elsie’s cook. He was quiver-
ing like an aspen.

“What has happened yonder?” said the doc-
tor, pointing to the fire.

“The: Boxers came—six of them. I was
there and saw them. I watched from a hole
in the wall.”

“The family,” said the doctor, impatiently,
“where are they.”

“All spirits, except Sai Na. The men at the
compound put the women and the little boy
into the inner room and fought before the door
as long as they could, but the Boxers were too
many, and their knives were sharp. The old
woman fell on her knees and cried for mercy,

102
The Rescue of Sat Na

but they would not listen. They told Sai Na
she had been sheltering foreign devils and
asked where they were now. She would not
tell, so they ” he pulled out his tongue and
struck it off with an expressive gesture.

Dr. Gilmore sickened, but the youth, though
shaking, went on stolidly with his recital.

“The Boxers took her out, tied her ankles
and buried her up to the waist, in the court-
yard. Then they killed the boy before her
eyes, and put him in her arms. She is there
now.”

“Take me to her,” said the doctor. “Quick!
don’t waste a minute.”

“T dare not,” answered Lung Te. “I am
not brave. If you had seen them ee

But the doctor was already speeding up the
street. Not a soul was visible, for the terror
of the slayers made the inhabitants hide within
doors. The mutilated bodies had been thrown
in the flames, and the smell of burning flesh
polluted the air.

As he drew nearer he saw six men disputing
angrily in the street in front of the compound.
They had dragged the furnishings of the house
outside, and were quarreling over its appor-
tionment. The flaring blaze illuminated their
hideous faces and dripping knives. Turning

103

 

 
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

‘up the pasage by the side of the compound,
and leaping a low wall, Dr. Gilmour came upon
Sai Na, buried to the waist, as Lung Te had
said—and oh! the pathos of it!—clasping the
sturdy, rounded little body of the dead Graham
in her arms.

The doctor’s heart beat with indignation
and pity, as at a glance his eyes took in every
detail. The brick wall completely hid the
Boxers from his view. The wind blew towards
Sai Na, and already the advancing flames were
reddening her scarred face, showing the
ominous stains about the mouth. Thrown down
beside her was the shovel they had used to
dig the hole in which she stood. Dr. Gilmour
picked it up and delved into the light soil with
a grim, desperate earnestness to set her free.
She gave him a look of gratitude, but, pointing
in the direction of the Boxers’ voices, waved
him away. With quick, unerring strokes he
dug and dug, through what seemed to him
hours, but was in reality only a few minutes.
The breath of the fire was hot upon him, and
he reeked with perspiration.

Sai Na was unearthed at last. He drew her
up out of the pit just as a yell from the Box-
ers, “ Kill! Kill! Kill!” announced that they
had seen him. With a stroke of his pocket

104
The Rescue of Sai Na

knife he cut the cords around her ankles. She
was stiff, so he waited to help her over the low
wall.

“Run for your life,” he shouted, and Sai Na
disappeared, still holding the lifeless baby form.

Dr. Gilmour sprang again into the narrow
passage. His pursuers were almost upon him.
He could see the flash of their steel in the
saffron light. Dashing into the street he
nourished the hope that he might outdistance
them yet, for he had been a good runner in
his younger days. He was steadily gaining
in the race, but he was on the road towards
the cave, and the thought that, as soon as he
was away from the light of the burning build-
ing, he must turn aside and screen himself in
the dark was distinctly present with him.
Otherwise he would lead the Boxers straight
to Ray’s hiding-place. A dark alley was at his
left, and he entered it, hoping to find an egress
at the other end and escape through the fields.
He ran heavily against a mud wall. Exhausted
and panting, he could not climb it. The
Boxers were on three sides of him. He would
sell his life dearly, anyway, so, placing his
back against the wall, he fought bravely,
parrying the strokes with what skill he could
in the darkness. It was an unequal match of

105
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

six to one, and Dr. Gilmour was overpowered
and fell. The Boxers thrust their knives
blindly into the prostrate body and hurried
back again to the booty before the site of the
mission compound,

106
CHAPTER IX
“OF WHOM THE WORLD WAS NOT WORTHY”

About half an hour after this the sleeping
inmates of the cave were roused by, a rude
imitation of Cheng-pai’s signal.

Douglas was alert in a moment.

“Where is Dr. Gilmour?” he asked of Ray.

“I do not know,” she said. ‘He was here
when I lay down.” She trimmed the light and
looked at her watch. “That was about two
hours ago.”

Dr. Medhurst rolled back the stone and
admitted Lung Te.

“Is Dr. Gilmour not with you?” asked Elsie.

“He is as good as dead,” said Lung Te.

Ray looked like one who has received a
severe hurt, but is not yet aware how severe.

Dr. Medhurst raised a threatening finger
towards Lung Te and said,

“Miss Gilmour, let me go outside with Lung
Te and find out what he knows.

But Ray was firm.

“TI will not faint,” she said, “and I must hear
for myself everything he has to tell.”

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

“Begin, then, Lung Te,” said Douglas, “but
be brief.” :

Lung Te had not learned to be brief; but he
related in his slow Bceotian way, interrupted
by impatient questions from his listeners, what
he knew of Dr. Gilmour’s adventures of the
past. hour.

“How did you find out?” asked Douglas.

“I saw the teacher when he was going
towards the fire, and I waited in the shadows
across the street until he came running out
again with the Boxers behind him. When
they left him I went into the alley and felt
his body. He moaned, so——” said Lung Te,
simulating the sound of a man who was in
great pain.

“Dr. Medhurst, you will not leave him
there?” said Ray. “You will go for him?
Never mind us,” she added, as he glanced at
the women, “think of him lying uncared for
out under the sky.”

“Will you take me to him, Lung Te?” asked
Douglas.

“What will you give me?” said the man
evasively.

“These taels of silver,” said Douglas eagerly.

“T must have more,” answered Lung Te
coolly.

108
“ Of Whom the World Was Not Worthy”

“Here is more, then. Only be quick.”

“I will consider your offer,” said Lung Te,
as if there were three hundred -and sixty-five
days in which to make up his mind.

“Great God!” said Ray, “to think that a
man could haggle at a time like this! Offer
him all we have, Douglas; make haste.”

“See, Lung Te!” said Douglas, sternly
(nothing is so exasperating to Occidentals as
Chinese slowness in great crises), “here are
seven taels of silver, not a cash extra will you
get for your information, and if you delay a
minute longer you shall have no part of these.
Choose!”

Douglas looked threatening, and Lung Te
thought it wise to compromise.

“Give them to me, then,” he said sullenly.

“Nothing of the kind,” said Douglas, with a
coolness that matched Lung Te’s. “TI shall
carry them myself, and when I see Dr. Gil-
mour, and only then, will I deliver them up to
you.”

“He was always avaricious,” said Elsie, as
Lung Te gave evidence of a sulky compliance.

Douglas had taken a new pair of boots from
his bundle and was tying up bandages and
medicine.

“Let me go with you, Dr. Medhurst,” said

109
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

Ray. “I can’t stay here and wait, I shall go
crazy.”

Fevetish spots glowed on her cheeks, and
her eyes were glitteringly bright.

“That would retard my speed and divide my
attention, Miss Gilmour. You will help most
by waiting here and being controlled.”

There was a strength about him which
quieted her.

“Can you carry him alone? No one will
help a foreigner now,” she added bitterly.

“I think I can bring him. When I was in
training I could lift heavy weights ‘with ease.
You will find lint and bandages in my knap-
sack. If you and Mrs. Andersen will get them
ready while I am gone it will be doing Dr.
Gilmour a service.” He wished Ray to do
something to divert her dry-eyed grief.

Elsie spoke commonplace, well-meant words
of sympathy when she and Ray were alone
together, to which Ray answered irritably.
She could not brook that any one should
intrude upon her sorrow. After their little
preparations had been made she knelt down
beside the door, waiting for the first intima-
tion of Douglas’ return. No sentence framed
itself in her thoughts, yet she prayed with a
dumb intensity.

110
“ Of Whom the World Was Not Worthy”

The stone moved at last, and Douglas entered
with Dr. Gilmour on his back, his mighty
frame bent almost double beneath his seeming-
ly inanimate burden.

“He still lives, I. think,” said Douglas. “He
groaned when I lifted him.”

He laid Dr. Gilmour gently on the shawls.
He had bound up some gashes by guesswork
in the dark, but now he examined them closely.
The doctor was sorely wounded. His noble
head, with its clear-cut features, was un-
touched, but on his body and arms there were
unsightly cuts.

The supply of water was scanty, and had to
be used with precaution. Neither Ray nor
Elsie faltered in waiting upon Douglas as he
did his surgeon’s work. Elsie had had experi-
ence as a nurse, and Ray was absorbed by Dr.
Medhurst’s words that her father was yet
alive.

She shivered before the awful stillness of
death where no voice could reach. If only he
were not beyond the power of hearing her, if
he might speak to her again; if she could ask
his forgiveness for the times when she had
been wilful and inconsiderate (and those times
flashed upon her now), all else seemed toler-
able.

III
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

“Do you think the litters will be here to-
night?” asked Elsie of Dr. Medhurst.

“I fear not,” he said. “But it would be
death to Dr. Gilmour to move him now, even
if we had the opportunity.”

“It will be death to Blossom if we stay,”
said Elsie, her rich-tinted, beautiful face
quivering in the effort to suppress tears.

Dr. Gilmour was not dead. With returning
signs of life there came fever and deliriousness.
He enacted again and again, in imagination,
the rescue of Sai Na.

Ray would not leave her father’s bedside
an instant. She cared for nothing, saw noth-
ing, but him. One hope possessed her—that
he would recognize her, speak her name again.
He fell asleep towards morning, and when he
awoke he was conscious.

“Father! Father!” said Ray, bending over.
“Do you know me? Say just one word to me!”

His faculties were slow in collecting them-
selves. It was a long time before he recalled
what had happened, then he asked faintly:

“How did I come here, Ray?”

“Dr. Medhurst brought you.”

He lay with closed eyes for a while longer,
then he whispered:

“Douglas, did the litters come?”

112
“ Of Whom the World Was Not Worthy”

“No, Dr. Gilmour, I cannot tell why they
were delayed,” said Douglas.

“My wounds are mortal, Douglas?” said the
doctor in a tone of conviction, “tell me plainly.”
“T can only hope not,” Douglas answered.

His voice was as gentle as a woman’s.

“T knew it was so, but I wanted your con-
firmation,’ answered Dr. Gilmour calmly.

“Ray, my child, come nearer to me. I shall
never see your mother again. I would like
to send her a message before my strength ebbs
away.”

“Do not speak so, father,” said Ray, with the
hot tears running down her cheeks. “You will
be well again, and take your own message to
her.”

“No, Ray. It is not to be. My course is
run. And it is all right—all as it should be.”

“Douglas, I know by my feelings that you
have been giving me morphine. I would rather
bear the pain than take any more. I need my
faculties clear now—will you write for me,
Ray?”

“Oh! father, I cannot,” said Ray. “Dr.
Medhurst will do it.” She lifted the pillows
on which her father’s head lay into her lap,
and softly stroked the broad brow shaded by
the abundant white hair.

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

Elsie moistened the parched lips and per-
formed the little services which her trained
eye detected almost before the patient was
aware of their need.

Dr. Gilmour dictated slowly :—

My Dearsst:

Up here in the mountains I am awaiting death. You
remember how we always hoped we would die together.
One whose wisdom exceeds ours has planned differ-
ently. For your sake, darling, I covet life; for my
own I welcome the summons home.

If I could have seen you once more, have died with
my hand in yours—I long for you with a hungry, pas-
sionate longing.

Do not think of me as being rash, Mary, in going to
Sai Na. It it were to do again and I could foresee
the consequences, I would have to do as I did. There
come times when it seems as if, in order to keep one’s
self-respect, one must act without calculating the
results. And, after all, how can a man die better than
in doing what looks to him like his duty? My death
is not premature. It is God’s own time and way.
Rest assured the lives of God’s children are not for-
feited by accident at this time. It is a necessary part
of his design for China’s salvation.

You will help to train Paul to resume his father’s
work in China. I would not trammel his will, nor bind
him to an unloved task. But in the light of death we
sometimes see clear-eyed into the future; and a subtle
consciousness tells me that in time Paul will take up
the duties which are now slipping from my hands.
He will do what I was not able to. The Chinese lan-

114
“Of Whom the World Was Not Worthy”

guage has always been a snare to me, and I was so
busy all day and so weary at night that I could not
keep up with the new scientific discoveries. I have
felt for the last few years that I was growing old and
sluggish. It needs youth to maintain enthusiasm work-
ing against such odds.

You know where my papers are, darling. I would
there were more money to leave you.

All the love of years seems crowded into these hours.
Death will not separate us, beloved. It cannot. Love
like ours is eternal. God forgive me, but it appears as
if heaven itself will not be wholly heaven to me until
you come.

And now, Mary, best beloved, farewell. There never
was a day since God first gave you to me that I did not
wonder at his lovingkindness in bestowing such a
treasure into my unworthy hands. And no night has
ever passed over my head that I did not thank him for
you, my gift of gifts.

Farewell, farewell, darling, until God reunite us.

Yours in eternity,

GRAHAM GILMOUR.

There was silence among the little group,
broken only by Ray’s sobs. Her burning tears,
fell on her father’s forehead as she bent over
him. He kissed her hand when she wiped
them away.

“If you are not tired, Douglas, I would like
to send a message to Paul, too.” The deep
voice was growing fainter.

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

My Dear Pavt:

My thoughts reach out in longing towards you. I
had hoped to watch you grow from boyhood to man-
hood, but God’s ways are best.

You are my only son. I leave your mother to your
care as a sacred trust.

So many things that I would like to say to you
crowd in upon my mind in this supreme hour that I
find it difficult to choose. I covet for you a stainless
life. Tio be manly, you must cherish three virtues—
bravery, courtesy and honor. You have a perfect ideal
in these things—the strong Son of God. He was the
most fearless of all men, with the truest kind of cour-
age—the courage to do the right with a full realization
of the cost. He was courteous with that heart-courtesy
which drew out the best that was in men and women,
and which made them leave his presence with an in-
crease of self-respect and a hungering after a nobler
life. And no sense of honor was so true as his, both
in guarding his own life from sin, and in his inter-
course with others.

I have made many mistakes in my attempts to imitate
him. You, Paul, will succeed where I have failed.

Good night, laddie. May God bless you throughout

your whole life.
Your father,

GraHam GILMOUR.

“Oh! father! you must not die,” said Ray.
“T need you. I cannot be good without you.”
“Poor girlie! poor girlie!” he said in a caress-
ing tone.
The supply of water was nearly exhausted.
116
“ Of Whom the World Was Not Worthy”

Dr. Gilmour and Blossom were both feverish,
and the others denied themselves that the sick
ones might not be stinted.

“Douglas,” said Dr. Gilmour, “how long you
may be immured here I do not know. If no
help comes before to-night you will have to try
and obtain water from the well at the end of
the village. It is on the left hand side after
the first turn. But don’t, I beseech of you,
venture out before it is dark.”

He lay back wearily, unable to suppress the
moans of pain.

After a pause he said, “Douglas, you have
always been faithful and true. I want to ask
one more proof of your loyalty. Lay your
hand in mine. We have been friends for six
years. Promise me that until you bring Ray
to her mother in Peking, you will guard her as
I would have done.”

“So long as I have life, I will protect her,”
said Douglas solemnly, as if he were making
a vow.

When he looked up, Ray’s face was suffused
with crimson.

“Now I can die content,” said the doctor,
closing his eyes.

He fell into a broken slumber, which lasted
for hours. The misery-laden day dragged

117
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

itself to.a close. Blossom was heavy-eyed and
fretful. Many schemes for their release re-
volved through Douglas’ mind, but none of
them seemed feasible. Towards evening Dr.
Gilmour was weakened still further by a
hemorrhage.

Douglas grew more and more disquieted as
the supply of water diminished. Several
times he cautiously rolled back the stone to
ascertain if it were not dark enough to go
abroad without being seen. On one of these
weary reconnoiters he descried the outline of
a man close to the mouth of the cave. He was
just debating within himself what course to
pursue towards the lurking shadow when he
heard a hoarse—

“Let me come in.”

It was undeniably Lung Te’s harsh voice.
When he was admitted he looked fearfully
about him and began,

“The Boxers ”

“Hush!” said Dr. Medhurst, motioning
towards the sick man.

But Dr. Gilmour had heard.

“Bring Lung Te nearer, Douglas,” he said,
“that I may hear what he has to tell. He has
dene us good service before.”

“The Boxers have found out where you are,

118

 
“ Of Whom the World Was Not Worthy”

and they will be here in a little while to kill
you,” said Lung Te.

“Who told you this?” asked Elsie.

“T heard them say so myself,” said Lung Te.
“They entered our house this afternoon and
threatened to murder us all if I did not tell
where you were hid. I had to ‘eat loss’
because of you. They took all my money
from me, because I had earned it working for
‘foreign devils.’ ”

“And you revealed our hiding-place,” said
Elsie, with her calm, beautiful face alight with
scorn.

“Would I let my father and mother die?”
said Lung Te with emphasis.

“Your first duty was to them,” said Dr.
Gilmour. “He owes nothing to us, Elsie, in
comparison with filial affection.”

Douglas put three taels of silver in Lung Te’s
hand. “Take this for coming to warn us,”
he said. “It is our thanks in the form you
understand best. I could have spared more if
you had been less exorbitant in your charges
last time. And now if you wish to go you
will leave at once, for I intend to barricade the
doorway of the cave and hold out as long as
I can.”

The young man shook his head. “It will be

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

no use. There are many of them in the
village. Set out for Si-chu. I will go as your
servant, if you pay me. My brother will not
keep me at home, because I bring trouble upon
them. I can show you the way.”

He was a cowardly fellow, and perhaps he
thought Dr. Medhurst would be a good body-
guard, for he looked, as he made this proposi-
tion, with a certain admiration at the doctor’s
dimensions.

Dr. Gilmour became suddenly animated.
“Listen to me, Douglas,” he said in a tone so
clear that it made his hearers start. “It is
madness to attempt to stay here, even if you
could defend the entrance, and that is doubt-
ful, for you have nothing to do it with. There
is no food or water here to stand a siege. You
must take Ray and Elsie and Blossom and flee
to Si-chu with the utmost haste. It may be that
you can get mule-litters there to proceed.”

“My friend ” said Douglas, bending
down over him.

“Do not waste a moment over me, Douglas.
You must leave me here. I have but a very
short time to live, and if the Boxers come they
can only cut my sufferings short—surely a
kindness I need not dread.”

“Leave you here defenseless!” said Douglas.

120

 
“ Of Whom the World Was Not Worthy”

“What have I ever done that you should im-
pute such a thing to me? The veriest pagan
could do no worse. I will resist the enemy as
long as I have a drop of blood in my body.”

Douglas spoke hotly, for his impetuous
nature was stirred.

“You are a noble fellow, Douglas. It is
something to be able to call such an one a
friend. But you think only of me. Ray and
Elsie must be saved.”

“Let me carry you as I did before,” said
Douglas. “I am strong.”

“How fast could you proceed with such
a dead weight as I would be? The Boxers
would soon overtake you.”

“Father! do you think I would go and leave
you?” said Ray reproachfully. “I’m not afraid
to die, and what place could be fitter than by
your side?”

“Ray,” said her father, “do you love only
me? Have you forgotten the little mother in
Peking? Would you rob her of husband and
child in one day? You know how ardent her
nature is. Think how she would wear herself
out in the long agony of a sickening suspense
—waiting and waiting for long-delayed news,
and hearing only the worst at last. You must
go to her and comfort her with tidings of me.”

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

“Go to her! and tell her I ran away and left
you here to the mercy of the Boxers? Oh,
father! how could I? You don’t know what
you are asking.”

“Douglas and Ray, listen! I have, at the
most, but an hour or two to live. Do not
shake your head, Ray. I have been a physician
too long to be mistaken. You see it plainly
enough, Douglas, though you are not willing
to admit it. See!” he said, raising his hand to
his forehead, “the death-sweat is on my brow.
If you stay here, four precious lives will be
lost, needlessly sacrificed—and to what end?
Merely that you might remain with me for an
hour of flickering consciousness. Four lives
of fresh youth for one hour of my ebbing
pulses. You see the folly of it, surely. Do
not linger. Every moment you dally makes
the danger more imminent.”

“Father,” said Ray, “Dr. Medhurst and
Elsie and Blossom shall go—but you and I,
we will live or die together.”

“Ray, my darling, be reasonable. There
never was a day since I married your mother
that I would not have undergone any pain to
have saved her one heart-pang. Surely your
love for her will stand this test, too. I be-
seech of you, by all your childhood memories

122
“ Of Whom the World Was Not Worthy”

of your mother’s care, that you will not delay
to go to her now.”

Lung Te was impatient. He did not under-
stand the scene.

“T cannot wait for the honor of your com-
mands any longer,” he said, “we -will be
caught.”

Elsie watched the dialogue with bated
breath, though she said nothing. She was not
given to much speaking at any time, and she
saw more clearly than the others that Dr. Gil-
mour’s plan was the only practicable one.
Not that she did not entertain a calm affection
for her uncle; and in other circumstances she
would have cared for him in his illness devot-
edly; but she was not intense in any of her
feelings except her attachment to her beautiful
child.

“Ray,” said her father, in an agony of ear-
nestness, “I entreat you, command you, by
whatever allegiance you owe to a dying
father’s behests that you procrastinate no
further.”

“I would obey you, father, but the Boxers—
who knows what torture their malice may in-
vent ?”

“Their worst is done for me. I am beyond
the power of their bitterness. But what might

123
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

they not do to you and the others? Douglas,
if you have compassion for me and mine, make
ready and go. In the name of God, think on
Sai Na and her sufferings, and, before it is too
late, spare Ray and Elsie such a fate.”

And Douglas, recognizing sorrowfully that
it was the only way to save the women from
what he shuddered to think of, began, with
Elsie, to hurriedly bundle their belongings
together.

Ray’s features quivered with emotion.
“Father,” she said, “you have demanded so
great a thing of me that I can scarcely obey.
I never loved you so much as now. I would
gladly give my life to save yours, and yet, at
your wish, I will leave you and go to mother.
But, oh! it is hard. Best and dearest of
fathers—good-bye.” She sobbed in her grief.

Elsie was somewhat moved as she bade her
uncle farewell, but she was thinking more of
her danger than of his. Blossom patted his
cheek with her hands as she kissed him.

At the last Douglas came. The two men
looked into one another’s faces with a long,
silent adieu. In Dr. Gilmour’s eyes there was
confidence; in Dr. Medhurst’s an ingenuous-
ness which might well inspire trust.

Very few women had loved Douglas, but

124
“ Of Whom the World Was Not Worthy”

among his own sex he had enjoyed, more than
falls to the common lot, those rare friendships
which strong men feel for one another.

“On your way homewards, Douglas, tele-
graph, when you can, to Mrs. Gilmour. Do
not sign the message and say nothing of me.
It is best she should not know until you see
her.”

The excitement, which had lent a momentary
strength to Dr. Gilmour, subsided, and he lay
back, unable to speak.

So it came to pass that Dr. Gilmour died
alone, as many brave men before him have
died at the close of life’s battle, with no
womanly hand near to soothe the pangs of the
last moments. Yet he was not alone, for One
was there whose love surpasses that of women,
and the dismal, dank cave was luminous with
his presence.

125
CHAPTER X
THE MOB

Douglas took Ray’s hand and led her out,
for she was blind with tears. Now that the
surrender of her will had been made she was
sorrowfully passive. It was dark, the road
was so narrow that they had to keep close to
the rocky side of the cliff, the stones bruised
her feet, in spite of Douglas’ care, but she was
conscious of neither pain nor fatigue. She
was with her father again, calling up a thou-
sand half-forgotten incidents of the past, suffer-
ing with his loneliness.

In her sharp mental strain it was a relief to
her to walk and walk and walk (she felt as if
she could proceed forever if it would take away
rankling memories), until at last the needs of
her spent body forced themselves upon her
notice. There was no speech between the
members of the little squad; they were occu-
pied with “thoughts which lay too deep for
tears.”

Elsie carried Blossom without finding the
weight burdensome. She was formed on a

126
The Mob

generous scale, which endowed her with both
strength and beauty.

It was in the beginning of the gray morning

when they descried the high stone wall with
the gateway in the center, which, embellished
with the gaily-painted figure of the dragon,
wards off the evil spirits who have malicious
intent upon the peace of Si-chu. The town is
built against the side of a hill, with the houses
of rough stone, terraced one above another.
. “T think it would be well for us to rest out-
side the walls while we send Lung Te to Tung
that he may advise us what to do,” said Doug-
las. “Perhaps he could send litters out to us
here.”

Beside the road, near to the wall, was a
large pile of dun-colored brick, and behind this
they sheltered themselves in order to escape
observation while Lung Te went on his errand.

“Dr. Medhurst,” said Ray, speaking with
slow emphasis, “I cannot go on, I must return
to father. It is right that you and Mrs. Ander-
sen should try to get to Peking, but I’d rather
be hacked into little bits by the Boxers than
undergo another hour such as I have just
passed through.”

“It has been a grievous experience,” he
answered with a sigh that roused her to recog-

127
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

nize that she was not the only one who found
it lacerating. “But if you choose to return I
will accompany you.”

“No, no, that is just the point to which I
want you to consent,” said Ray hastily. “TI
can’t sacrifice you.”

“And I can’t leave you defenseless; even if
my inclinations would agree to do it (and they
never would), there is my promise to your
father.”

“T would tell him that I made you yield to
me. Think of his suffering there alone.”

Elsie appeared anxious and impatient. Was
there another contlict at hand? Why was Ray
so fickle when they had acted in the only wise
way?

“Tf you went to uncle, Ray,” she said, “he
would not be glad that you had come. It
would increase his sufferings, not alleviate
them. He told you his wishes plainly.
You will show your love most by obedience to
them. You think only of yourself. Auntie
and Dr. Medhurst and Blossom have claims,
too.”

Ray was convinced, but not being patient, a
retort rose to her lips. It was silenced by other
and sadder thoughts which crowded in upon
her.

128
The Mob

“Miss Gilmour,” said Dr. Medhurst, “I have
been thinking if we offered Lung Te a liberal
reward he might go back to the cave and bring
us tidings.”

“Yes,” she said eagerly, “anything is better
than this suspense. Dr. Medhurst,” she con-
tinued, lifting her heavy eyes to his, “the most
bitter drop in my cup is that when father was
alive I did not appreciate him as I ought. I
used to wish he were more brilliant, more dash-
ing, a greater student. Now I wouldn’t change
one feature of his character. I am prouder of
him and of having had such a man as my father
than if he had had the wealth of the Roths-
childs. Why didn’t I understand him better
when he was with me, that I might have told
him how I revered him? Why is it that death
reveals our beloved to us better than life? If
he only knew that at the last I see him as he
is—the stainless knight, the true Sir Galahad—
my remorse would be less poignant.”

“Your grief makes you exaggerate your want
of appreciation,” said Douglas. “He knew you
loved him. He was so modest that he would
have been surprised had he thought he wore a
halo in any one’s eyes. He told me once what
a disappointment it was to him when, as a
young man, he discovered the limitations of

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

his ability. He had dreamed, as most of us
do in early life, of making a name for himself,
and was compelled, as most of us are, to under-
stand what it means to be of consequence in a
very small corner.”

Lung Te interrupted the conversation by re-
turning, carrying bowls of millet and bottles of
boiled water, which Tung had provided.

“The Magistrate is on the watch for foreign-
ers, so Tung dare not do as he likes,” explained
Lung Te. “He said you were to pass through
the town without seeing him or Cheng-pai. If
you will pay me now for my bitterness in serv-
ing you I will no longer be entrusted with the
honor of your commands.”

“Lung Te,” said Douglas, “you have been
useful to us and are fond of money. If you
will faithfully perform one more duty, we will,
if we arrive at Peking, give you one hundred
taels of silver, enough to buy yourself a piece
of land and build a house.”

Lung Te’s eyes sparkled.

“We want news of Dr. Gilmour, and if you
go back to the cave and bring us word of
exactly what has happened—no lying, remem-
ber, if you want pay—and then come with us
to Peking, the money will be yours.”

“But if you are killed?” questioned Lung Te.

130
The Mob

“You will have to accept the risk of that,”
answered Dr. Medhurst.

“Mother would pay him,” interjected Ray.

“We have not much ready money,” said
Douglas, “but here are four taels for the ex-
penses of your journey. Overtake us, if pos-
sible.”

Lung Te grasped the silver and started.

They were on a public roadside—the main
thoroughfare from Taiyuan to Paoting.
Streams of traffic passed unceasingly—yellow,
long-necked camels, mules and ponies, carts
and wheelbarrows and litters in never-ending
file—carrying goods or people to the interior,
or from the interior to Peking. Travel begins
in China with the earliest sunrise. The public
gaze could not be avoided as they placed them-
selves in the awkward conveyances. Douglas
saw that some equestrians riding by on their
mules watched them with unfeigned curiosity
and made free comments on the habits and ap-
pearance of the “foreign devils.” They drew
the curtains tightly together and completely
screened themselves from outward view. All
appeared so tranquil on leaving Si-chu, and
they had been so overtaxed, that, lulled by the
swaying motion of the vehicles, they soon fell
asleep.

>

131
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

It was noon when Douglas was awakened by
the hoarse roar and sullen voices of a mob. In
an instant there came a shower of stones, brick,
clubs and mud. Douglas leaped out and
fought his way a few feet ahead through the
mass to where the women were. The crowd
instinctively swayed back before this brawny
man. Douglas wrung a club from the hand of
the nearest insurgent, and stood upon the
shafts of the women’s litter. The mob was on
both sides.

“Throw out the comforters, the pillows, the
medicine case, everything,” said Douglas.

Ray did as she was bidden. Elsie was en-
gaged with Blossom, who was sobbing her
little heart out in terror. The crowd trod each
other down in their effort to gain possession of
the sacrificed articles.

Douglas’ strokes were none the less sure
because he was passionately excited. A blow
from the back shivered his club in his hands.
At that moment a huge ruffian, seeing the
glitter of a gold ring on Ray’s hand, seized her
finger and lifted his sword to cut it off.
Douglas knocked the sword aside with a force
that left his knuckles bleeding, snatched off the
ring, and sent it down in the mud at the man’s
feet. Even in that terrible moment Ray felt

132
The Mob

a pang. It was Frank’s engagement ring, and
she had meant to wear it always.

Their only hope now lay in the avaricious
qualities of the myrmidons. The silver and
some cash were still left. Douglas flung it to
left and right among the people, as far from
him as he could. As he had calculated, the
rabble groped after it.

An unexpected turn was given to the event,
as down the street marched an armed phalanx.

“The soldiers from the yamen,” was echoed
from many throats, and the throng began to
melt away.

The leader rode up to Douglas, expressing
his regret at the plight to which he had been
reduced, explained that he had been sent by the
Magistrate, and politely offered to conduct him
to the yamen.

The litters were pieced up and placed in the
center of the squadron, and so escorted they
entered the yamen gate, flanked by two stone
lions with insipid countenances.

Douglas was shown to one apartment and
the women to another. Water and a delicate
meal of pickled duck’s eggs, lotus stems and
buds, bamboo sprouts, sharks’ fins and chicken
was brought.

After refreshment Douglas determined to

133
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

bespeak an audience with this kindly-disposed
official and get an escort for further journeying.
When he attempted to open the door, it was
locked. He tried the windows—they were
barred. This was what the deathly quiet
meant. He was a prisoner! He called
through the door, through the windows, but
only the hollow mocking echo of his own voice
answered. Then he tried to break his way out,
but what can a man do unarmed by beating
against solid stone walls? How he chafed and
raved and thought on Ray’s helplessness! By
his own simplicity he had been trapped into
separation from her, and had walked open-eyed
into his cell. He told himself fiercely that,
dearly as he loved Ray, he would have killed
her with his own hands rather than have per~
mitted her to fall into the clutches of these
torturing, pitiless ruffians. When he grew
quieter, he betook himself to the resource of
all devout souls in their extremity, namely, to
prayer.

134
CHAPTER XI
WITH HUNG CHUAN

Three hours after, he heard the tread of feet
in the passage. A guard of four men, armed
with Mauser rifles, came to lead him out. He
was to have the honor of a conference with
their master, he was informed. The soldiers
marched him into a large audience-chamber,
with a row of servants drawn up on one side,
and placed him at the extreme right of the
Mandarin.

The man of the West stood fronting the man
of the East. They were typical specimens of
nationality—Douglas Medhurst, thin and sin-
ewy, with keen, shrewd eyes, and something
in his bearing which indicated a determination
to wring success even out of his present ad-
verse circumstances. Hung Chuan, flexible
and graceful, with outstanding cheek bones
and a naturally broad forehead, accentuated by
shaving the hair backwards, while around his
somewhat thick lips there was an expression
of tenacity. A long robe of brown silk, whose
only ornament was an embroidered square at

135
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

the back and front, enveloped him from head

to foot, and the ample sleeves completely hid

his hands. Both possessed a quick insight into

character, and each recognized the other’s

claim to respect.

“For there is neither East nor West, border nor breed,
nor birth,

When two strong men stand face to face, though they
come from the ends of the earth.”

Dr. Medhurst, knowing the scorn a lack of
acquaintance of ceremonial etiquette aroused
in a Chinese breast, determined, in so far as he
knew, to conduct himself with “propriety.”

“What is your honorable surname?” began
Hung.

“My mean, insignificant name is Medhurst.”

“What is your honorable kingdom ?”

“The petty district from which I come is the
United States of America.”

“Is the honorable man of your household
living ?”

“Alas! he is not,” answered Dr. Medhurst.

“May I ask your honorable age?”

“Your unworthy servant has profitlessly
passed thirty-two years.”

“Your years are long and betoken great abil-
ity,” said Hung sarcastically.

“I have pleasure in meeting you,” said Doug:

136
With Hung Chuan

las, “and I avail myself of the occasion to pre-
sent my respects to your excellence.”

“I acknowledge your consideration,” an-
swered Hung with indifferent politeness.

“I trust your honorable health is good.”

“Thanking you for your interest, my health
is still robust.”

“The worthy members of your household,
are they well?”

“They are well. You will be pleased to see
Pauning,” said Hung in a tone of unveiled
irony.

“You are the only sight in it worth looking
at,” said Douglas, feeling that truth and polite-
ness coincided for once.

“You have had an arduous journey.”

“We have indeed, and it is not yet ended.
Our destination is Peking. Outside the gates
of this town, over which you hold honorable
jurisdiction, we were set upon by Boxers and
stripped of our belongings. We have been
guilty of no misdemeanor. We were traveling
quietly along, molesting no one, therefore we
feel sure that your fine sense of justice will
cause you to see that our goods are restored to
us, and that we are furnished with the means
of going on our way.”

Hung’s eyes shot forth sudden wrath. The

137
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

transformation in his countenance was so rapid
that Douglas was amazed. It resembled a flash
of jagged lightning from a sullen thunder-
cloud.

“Help you to Peking!” he reiterated, scorn-
fully. “Do not delude yourself with such a
hope. Look well at the sun pouring its rays
into yonder doorway, for by the great god of
war I swear that when it rests there to-morrow
your spirit will be with your ancestors.”

“If you take away my life,’ said Douglas,
steadily, “you will commit a great crime, for
which you will be answerable to the laws of
your country. His Imperial Majesty, the Em-
peror, has, by treaty, guaranteed protection to
foreigners doing no harm.”

“Yes, and how were such treaties wrung
from my helpless nation? When we were con-
tented and prosperous, desiring only the privi-
lege of choosing our own associates, wishing
for no intercourse with the barbarians of the
outer seas, they, nevertheless, swarmed into the
Flowery Kingdom with firearms and gun-
boats, and, with their hand on my country’s
throat and a pistol at her head, extracted prom-
ises from her when she was unable to resist.
But promises made in such an extremity are not
binding. You think I do not know about these

138
With Hung Chuan

things, but my ancestral home was in Shang-
hai, and I have watched the trickiness of for-
eign devils all my life. I have been patient and
waited, and at last the day of retribution is at
hand when all red-headed barbarians infesting
our country shall be speedily exterminated.”
“T do not know what grievances you have
against those of other nations, but were you to
punish the innocent with the guilty you would
act most unjustly,” said Douglas. “Many years
ago an American, a scholar versed in the science
of medicine, came to Peking. He remained
there, spending his time in healing the sick
and relieving the suffering of the Pekingese.
He did not do this for money, but from a feel-
ing of pure beneficence. I have been his as-
sistant for six years and I know this to be true.
This week the Boxers ended the life of this wise
and good doctor in Shansi, whither he had gone
because his friend, the husband of his niece,
was ill. When dying, I promised him to con-
duct his daughter and niece to his home in Pe-
king, where his wife and son are. The feeling
of gratitude should prompt you to spare the
relatives of one so worthy. Were you to kill
us what good would such an act do to your
country or your countrymen? Already, by Dr.
Gilmour’s death, you have deprived them of

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

rare medical aid. You are pursuing a mad pol-
icy of cutting off your nose to spite your face.
I appeal to your sense of justice.”

“You prate of justice—what justice have
you shown us? By justice you mean license
for yourselves and subjection from us. Have
you not seized our territory? Give us back your
unlawful possessions of Kiao-chou, Wei-hai-
wei, and Port Arthur and then talk of justice,
if you will. With arrogant airs you discuss
parceling out the Middle Kingdom and giv-
ing each nation a part as coolly as if it were
a dead sheep you have an opportunity to divide.
It is true that in our revenge some innocent
ones will suffer with the guilty. Do you think
the barbarians have injured none but those who
harmed them?

“Draw the curtains aside,” he said to an at-
tendant. In an inner apartment, communicat-
ing with the audience chamber, on a couch cov-
ered with silken quilts, richly embroidered, lay
an emaciated young man of about twenty-four,
who evidently had not long to live. By his
leaden-colored skin and heavy stupor, Dr.
Medhurst knew him at once to be an opium-
eater. Hung’s rapid glance noted how Doug-
las bent towards him in pity, as he observed the
refined, delicate cast of the features, and the

140
With Hung Chuan

broad brow which betokened him to be a youth
of promise.

“There sleeps my only son,” said Hung, with
sorrowful passion, “he who should have
cheered my old age and have performed the an-
cestral rites for me when Iam no more. When
I think of his blighted life, of his struggles
against the awful spell of that enchaining habit,
of the slow wasting of his energy—all because
of that accursed drug which you foreign devils
forced upon our nation by the might of your
swords in spite of our prayers and entreaties,
caring nothing for the wreck of our race if only
your covetousness might be gratified, I say
again, I hate you, and the Middle Kingdom
shall be rid of such vermin. You shall be put
to death by slow torture. Perhaps then you
will know something of what a father feels
when he watches his only son dying inch by
inch, and will acknowledge that you are but
suffering what you have inflicted upon others.”

“The British nation has been to blame. A
heavy burden of guilt rests upon her; but be-
fore China ever heard of a foreigner opium was
grown on her soil and used by her natives,”
said Douglas.

“True,” said Hung, “but how was it used?
Clandestinely and under punishment of fines

141
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

and even death itself —by a guilty few. Now
one-fifth of the nation is openly under the
power of the drug.”

“I abhor opium as much as you do,” said
Douglas, “and I would destroy every vestige
of it from the land, both home-grown and im-
ported, if it were in my power.”

“Barbarians speak ever in riddles,” said
Hung, derisively.

“There is not a missionary in the Flowery
Kingdom to-day who is a follower of Jesus,”
continued Douglas, “who is not battling against
the use of opium in any form.”

“Ah, yes, your Yasu—all barbarians say they
worship him, and exalt him above Confucius—
does he teach you to sow your lands with poi-
son, that you may become rich with silver
stained with blood?”

“Alas! no,” said Douglas, “but all men are
not guided by his principles. Do all the sons
of Han regulate their conduct by the maxims
of your great Confucius?”

“Tf Confucius were here now,” answered
Hung, avoiding the question, “and had seen
what I have from childhood, he would rouse
our nation to revenge against its usurpers.
My first recollection of foreign devils was on
the streets of Shanghai, when, a little boy, I

142
With Hung Chuan

ran by my honorable father’s side. He was a
small farmer, and denied himself much that I
might be educated and obtain official position.
One day as he was peaceably pursuing his
way, carrying melon-seeds for sale, some for-
eign sailors, regardless of his venerable appear-
ance, ran against him and knocked him into the
gutter, laughing mockingly as the seeds were
whirled into the mire of the streets.

“When, six years ago, he went to the land
of spirits, I resigned my official position that
I might mourn for him, and, after suitable
ceremonies, my brother and I buried him in
the Ning-po Joss-House cemetery. Two years
since the French demanded the sacred ground
for a slaughter-house, and impiously began to
dig up the graves. When we opposed, they
landed armed troops to take possession. My
brother fought, as he had a right to fight, for
the hallowed tomb of his ancestors. They shot
him like a dog. Over his prostrate body I
vowed revenge to the calloused devils who
were not content with affronting us in life, but
with fiendish malice disturbed even our repose
in death.”

Douglas had followed his recital with deep
interest.

“You have cause to feel bitterly towards for-

143
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

eigners,” he said. “The desecration of your
burial-grounds, the seizure of your territory,
and the enforcement of opium upon you, are
wrongs which I, as an American, whose nation
has had no hand in these things, deeply deplore.
I sympathize with your patriotic feelings; but
your present course of expulsion and extermi-
nation will be more fatal to your own and your
country’s happiness than any you could pur-
sue. Do you realize that you are declaring
war against all the civilized nations of the
world? Pardon me if I recall to your mind
some unpleasant circumstances of this century.
Sixty years ago England, single-handed, proved
more than a match for your armies; later, Eng-
land and France combined overcame the Taku
forts; and very recently Japan, your little
neighbor, whose size you have despised, com-
paring her to a pill, put your soldiers to flight
in Corea. If you slay, as you threaten to do,
all foreigners within your shores, do you think
the powerful nations to whom they belong
will stand tamely by and take no revenge?
And if events have proved you unable to with-
stand any one nation singly, how will you
meet them combined? Your energies should
be devoted to strengthening the internal
resources of your country; but, instead, you

144
With Hung Chuan

are weakening it by dissensions; you are
slaughtering many of the bravest and wisest of
your race who plead for reform. Your conduct
resembles that of a physician who has a patient
fainting from weakness through starvation,
and who, instead of endeavoring to revive him
with the food he is in need of, bleeds him so
profusely that his remaining vitality is de-
stroyed.”

“What you say has a shadow of truth,” said
Hung.

“Honorable master, forgive the temerity of
thy servant in interrupting your worthy con-
versation. The wife of your honorable son
has endeavored to commit suicide by swallow-
ing foreign devil dirt.”

Hung’s whirlwind of passion made way to
deep concern. Giving orders to the soldiers
to guard Dr. Medhurst, he left the room with
undignified haste.

Douglas was planning to knock down his
sentinels, find Ray and Elsie and make an
attempt to escape, when Hung re-entered
greatly agitated. His manner was suave and
almost deferential as he addressed Douglas.

“Your copious and learned studies—have
they included the science of medicine?’ he
asked.

145
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

Douglas admitted that that was his specialty.

“My insignificant daughter-in-law has en-
deavored to commit suicide by swallowing
opium. She still breathes. If your honored
skill can restore her, your payment shall be
equal to the greatness of the service.”

Dr. Medhurst’s pulses throbbed at the pos-
sibility of release, and he gladly accompanied
Hung through the courtyard, brilliant with
flowers and shrubs, to the women’s apart-
ments, at the end. The room they entered
was so dark that Dr. Medhurst had to become
accustomed to the gloom before he could dis-
tinguish the patient. She was alone, the
women attendants having modestly withdrawn
behind a curtain as the foreigner approached.
She was carefully and richly dressed ; her raven-
black hair, coiled and puffed in masses from her
head, was bespangled with glittering pins; her
tunic and kilted skirt were embroidered in
silk; rings and bracelets encircled her fingers
and wrists; while peeping out from the robe
were tiny feet, not more than a finger-length
long, encased in slippers of such exquisite
workmanship that the name of “golden lilies”
seemed no hyperbole.

She lay quite unconscious, her breathing
was slow and heavy, and over the young coun-

146
With Hung Chuan

tenance, which in health must have been pretty,
there was spread a disfiguring bluish cast.
Dr. Medhurst saw at once that the case
required vigorous measures.

“T may be able to save her,” he said to Hung.
“I am not sure, but I must have the help of
the ladies who are with me. One is a trained
nurse. Outside the gates my medicine chest
was taken from me. It contains atropine—a
drug that will neutralize morphia. If you can
restore to me the medicines and send me the
aid I need, I feel hopeful of your daughter-in-
law’s recovery.”

In an incredibly short time Dr. Medhurst’s
orders were being obeyed. In response to his
' note, “Come without fear,” Ray and Elsie and
Blossom had appeared; servants were de-
spatched in search of the missing medicine;
the mustard was forthcoming, and a strong
emetic given.

Ray kept Blossom, while Elsie assisted the
doctor.

Wondering brown eyes looked at them
through the curtain as they shouted into the
patient’s ear, opened the loose dress and
whipped the skin briskly with a wet towel,
dashed alternately warm and cold water on
the chest, and by main strength held the almost

147
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

unconscious girl up between them, making her
walk the floor.

Blossom cried out at such an unusual pro-
cedure. Poor child! she was becoming ac-
customed to terrifying sights.

Douglas snatched a moment to whisper to
Ray, “We are in danger. Do not leave the
room on any pretext, lest we become separated
again.”

“We will have to try artificial respiration,
Mrs. Andersen,” said Dr. Medhurst. “This is
a grim fight, and perhaps our lives, as well as
this poor creature’s, depend upon our success.”

“My kingdom for my chemicals,’ said
Douglas, an hour later, baffled by the comatose
state of the invalid.

In answer to his wish Hung appeared, ac-
companied by a servant, who bore the medi-
cine-case, very much worse in appearance from
the scuffle it had gone through. Some of the
bottles had been broken, but the fragments of
glass had been carefully gathered up and put
in the compartments again.

Dr. Medhurst improvised a stomach-pump
with some rubber tubing, injected the atropine
and at last the sluggish breathing grew
quicker, the contracted eyeballs dilated, and
consciousness returned to the unhappy woman.

148
With Hung Chuan

Hung watched the slowly-dawning life with
deep interest.

“It is only a matter of time until your
daughter-in-law will be restored to her usual
health. I will feel amply repaid if now you will
give us conveyance and an escort as far as the
boundary of Chilhi,” said Douglas.

“T kiss your hand in gratitude,” said Hung,
“but remain under my insignificant roof until
the morning. Perhaps the sick one is still in
danger. Suitable rooms will be provided for
the ladies to rest in.”

Dr. Medhurst looked keenly at Hung to find
out if this were a new ruse for detaining them.
But when did the face of a Chinaman ever
serve as anything but a mask to his thought?

“T would have preferred setting out this
evening,” said Douglas. “The country is dis-
turbed, and traveling is safer by night than by
day.”

“The escort I shall provide will be a guar-
antee for your protection,” said Hung loftily.

Douglas felt that it was useless to oppose
the man in whose power they were, so he stipu-
lated that comforters be brought to the sick
room for Ray and Elsie, and that he himself
would occupy the next apartment, within call,
while some of the household watched the

149
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

symptoms of the prostrate woman. Hung
complied graciously in these arrangements, and
once more the weary fugitives fell asleep.

It seemed to Elsie only a minute before the
nurse roused her.

“My mistress is asking to speak with you,”
she said.

Elsie disengaged Blossom’s soft arms from
her neck and rose at once. The dim light
shone on the questioning brown eyes of the
Chinese woman as she raised them to the
beautiful face above her.

“They tell me you brought me back from
the gates of death,” she said. “I am not a
woman greedy of life. Why did you do it?”

“Life is too precious a gift to throw care-
lessly away,” said Elsie.

“You do not know how miserable Iam. Do
you see my little feet? They are beautiful,
are they not? They are my pleasure and tor-
ment. Night and day they pain, pain, pain.
When I cry out my mother-in-law beats me.
Is your mother-in-law kind to you?”

“I have never seen her,” said Elsie. “She
lives far from here, over the seas.”

“You have never seen her,” echoed the
little lady in astonishment. “Do you not live
with her?”

150
With Hung Chuan

“No,” said Elsie, “it is the custom in our
land for each married pair to have a separate
house.”

“How happy you must be! Have you any
sons?”

“No, but I have a little daughter.”

“Oh! daughters don’t count. A hundred
goddess-like girls are not equal to a boy with
a crooked foot. It always makes me sad when
I hear of a girl being born. I had a girl-baby,
but I strangled it rather than let it grow up to
suffer as I have done. Was your husband
angry when your baby wasn’t a little boy?”

“She was just as welcome to us as a son
would have been,” said Elsie, with a proud look
towards Blossom’s rounded face framed in with
dewy curls.

“T have heard that it is the custom of the
barbarians to make much of their wives and
to care for their daughters. My husband, and
mother and father-in-law all hate me because
I have no son. I have not drawn one peaceful
breath since my baby girl was born. They are
cruel, but I almost had my revenge. If I had
died there would have been an investigation,
and my father-in-law would have lost his
official position, for he is responsible for the
good conduct of his household. My relatives,

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

too, would have made him pay a handsome
indemnity. He is a proud, passionate man—
my father-in-law—full of words when he is
in a rage, and fond of money and his position.
I wish I had gone to the land of spirits, so as
to have been able to plague him and my
mother-in-law. A childless wife is more
powerful dead than alive. But I’m afraid of
death, too. To think of worms eating my soft
limbs. Ugh! I have prayed so earnestly to
the gods for a son, but they despise me and
will not answer.”

Elsie saw that the patient was becoming
feverish and excited, so she soothed her by
turning her attention from her sorrows.

She roused up after a time and said, “My
father-in-law does not like any from foreign
lands. Do not trust him. To try and appease
his anger by a good deed is like trying to put
out the fire in a cartload of fuel with a cup
of water.”

152
ry

CHAPTER XII
FROM MANDARIN TO MANDARIN

Next morning the girl-wife had rallied so per-
ceptibly that even Hung’s solicitude was
allayed. For reasons best known to himself
he had no further interview with Douglas, but
sent three mule-litters and an escort of ten
soldiers, whose manner was respectful but
uncommunicative. In answer to Douglas’
request for some money, the captain replied
evasively that their wants would -be amply
supplied. As they passed through the town
in the early morning everything was peaceful,
not a trace of the recent riots and pillage
remained. They had swayed leisurely along
for two hours when the leader cried, “Halt!”

“We have escorted your honorable persons
as far as our worthy master commanded us,
and must beg of you to descend,” the soldier
explained.

“Surely you do not intend to desert us in
this spot?” said Douglas. “How far away is
the next town?”

“About six li.”

153.
, Knights Who Fought the Dragon

Douglas guessed from the man’s bland
manner that he was lying, and that the distance
was much more.

“Did your worthy master not give you some
money to aid us on our journey?”

“He did not, and promised me a beating if
I allowed any of the soldiers to help you.”

The man was firm. There was no alterna-
tive, so they left the litters and stood out in
the dirty street. Looking about them they
saw one of the saddest, most desolate sights
in China. It was an opium village, that is, a
village where all, or nearly all, of the inhabi-
tants had succumbed to the use of opium, such
as are to be found at intervals in the mountains
of Shansi. In the walls of the houses were
gaping holes which no one sought to mend; the
windows were dirty and minus their paper
panes ; and through the doors, long since bereft
of hinges, were to be seen men and women
with dull, drawn faces, moving listlessly about
or lying in a heavy stupor. Their garments
were a bundle of rags; no care was manifest
in their dress, from the worn-out shoes to the
unkempt, tangled queues.

“Hung has planned to give us an object-
lesson with a vengeance,” said Douglas, sur-
veying the blighted scene around them.

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From Mandarin to Mandarin

“There is at least no danger of persecution
from these people, they are too lethargic. If
you rest in this deserted courtyard you will
be screened from passers-by, and I will go and
see if I can find any one to take us over the
mountains to N e

Some children with wizened-up faces, on
whose fingers were the tell-tale brown stains
of the opium, came up to the gate and gaped
in wonderment at Blossom’s golden hair.

Douglas found the inn at the end of the
village inhabited by a lugubrious keeper, in
whose head the eyes were set so far back and
the jaws so far forward that how to see at
certain angles must have been a problem to
him. He was, however, of a kindly disposition ;
had, in his capacity as innkeeper, met foreign-
ers before, and was rather proud of being
expert in dealing with such curiosities.

“T have two ladies with me,” said Douglas,
after greetings had been exchanged, and the
innkeeper had made friendly inquiries about
Douglas’ age and health and home and in-
come. “We are on our way to Peking, but have
been robbed of our money and all our belong-
ings. Do you know of any one who, for the
sake of benevolence, would convey us—the
ladies, I mean”—Douglas was unused to beg-

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

ging, and stammered—“to the next town. One
of them has been ill and is unable to walk.”

“You have come to the wrong place for
help,” replied mine host. “It’s hard to shave
anegg. There isn’t a mule or a cart left in the
village, they have all been sold—all sold.
This was a busy village twenty years ago.
My father owned the inn then; and those ter-
races up the mountainside were cultivated—
yes, cultivated. But there aren’t thirty people
left. They are dead—all dead—died of opium.”

He paused on the last word ruminatingly,
half caressingly. As he was speaking, Doug-
las noticed an opium smoker’s pipe, dipper and
lamp near him.

“You use the drug, too?” said Douglas,
pointing to the outfit. “Do you not think it
has done injury enough to this place without
you sacrificing yourself?”

“Injury? Ah, yes, ’tis true. But the pleas-
ure, the enchanting dreams, the sense of rest,
of luxury, the new wine of excitement,—no
remembrance of cold or wet or hunger or hard
times—that balances the injury. We die of
our indulgence, but we must die some time—
why not soon as well as late?”

Douglas had no time to argue, so he asked,
“How far is it to the next town?”

156
from Mandarin to Mandarin

“About fifteen li.”

“You appear kind,” said Douglas hesi-
tatingly, “few are kind to foreigners now.
Those with me need food before we reach the
end of this day’s journey ——” He paused, find-
ing it difficult to go on, but his torpid listener
understood.

“You are climbing a tree to hunt for fish.
I would give you some if I had it, but there is
none in the house. I haven’t tasted a morsel
for a week” (he was lean enough to have fasted
for a month), “but take a smoke of opium; it
will sustain you without anything to eat for
days.”

Douglas shook his head. The old man meant
to be generous, and was surprised, and per-
haps relieved, at the refusal.

Up the dreary street walked Douglas, look-
ing into decaying houses where no inhabitant
was, and not a stick of furniture remained.
He met a few men, who were too sluggish
even to exhibit much curiosity. In answer to
his inquiry they gave the same reply as the
innkeeper, there were no conveyances there.
Two of the men made an offer to improvise a
chair for the women; but, hearing that Douglas
had no money, they, in post haste, withdrew.

When he reached the courtyard again, his

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon
%

heart smote him to see how pale and feeble
Ray looked, and how languorous beautiful
Blossom was. The sun beat down into the
open with scorching intensity. He threw him-
self down beside them.

“No hope, I see,” said Ray.

“Hung wanted to impress upon us the havoe
opium can do, and he has done it,” said Doug-
las. “Think of this village, which for cen-
turies was the abode of contented and cheerful
farmers, and these terraces placed up the
mountainside with incredible patience and labor
—all undermined by the power of the poppy-
seeds. And Shansi has others like this. I
was dumb before Hung as he raved of his
oppression. What could I say in defense of
nations who wrong the weaker under a Chris-
tian banner? His method of retaliation is
wrong, wholly wrong, but it is to be remem-
bered in his defense that he has had strong
provocation.”

“Hung’s revenge may not be ended yet,”
said Ray. “He may intend to send Boxers
after us, knowing we can receive no help here.
He would be glad to have us get a quietus, if
only it happened outside the territory over
which he holds jurisdiction. I heard him and
his secretary talking about us in the night, and

158
From Mandarin to Mandarin

the secretary was advising him to let us go
on farther. ‘If they were to die here, who
would be supposed to have killed them?’ he
asked; and it seemed Hung was rather uneasy
under the question.”

= is five miles away over a rocky,
mountainous road, on which swarms of traf-
fickers are passing all the time, and we may be
exposed to abuse when going along on foot.
Had we not better stay here to-day and travel
in the night? I know the magistrate at N ;
he is friendly to foreigners. He held a position
in Peking three years ago, and often came into
the hospital and looked around. He will give us
money and guards.”

“Let us go at once,” said Elsie. “I am
afraid of Hung.”

“You are so little able,” said Douglas, look-
ing at Ray. When he spoke to her his voice
softened in spite of himself.

“Dr. Medhurst,” said Blossom gravely,
coming to him and patting, as she had a habit
of doing, his weather-beaten cheeks, “I’m so
lonesome ’out my dolly and my effelunt book.”

“Ah! Blossom, what a blundering, absent-
minded Yankee I am! I have your ‘effelunt’
book hidden away in one of the pockets of this
robe. Come and hunt for it.”

159

 

 
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

Blossom clasped the treasure in glee and
gave him a kiss in her overflowing spirits.

He had grown accustomed to her caresses
now. By them—such is the weakness of man
—she had reduced him to a state of willing
serfdom.

“Will you sing to me, Dr. Medhurst?” said
Blossom. “I’m so sleepy. My papa always
singed to me.”

“What did papa sing to you, sweetheart?”
asked Douglas.

“ “Sweet Story of Old,’” said Blossom. “He
singed it every night when I went to bed. You
sing it.”

Douglas never thought of denying the plead-
ing little face, with its halo of sunny curls,
anything. He sang the hymn for her (his
mother had sung it to him years ago) and suc-
ceeded not only in pleasing Blossom, but in
alluring some wan-eyed children and a num-
ber of uncombed fathers and mothers to the
gate.

“You sing like my papa,” said Blossom.
“He hasn’t any little girl to sing to now,” she
continued in a tone of compassion, “he’s in
heaven.”

They set out for N. It must be reached
by walking. Their progress was constantly

160

 
From Mandarin to Mandarin

impeded by having to turn aside that vehicles
of all descriptions, and the long procession of
men and boys, carrying suspended from rods
crates of kettles or blocks of sawed anthracite
from the mines, might pass on the narrow road.
When they had gone about three miles they
sat down to rest beside a gray stone tablet
standing on the backs of two skilfully carved
tortoises. The inscription on the slab testified
to the virtues of the “good mandarin” who had
improved the roads thereabouts. Judging from
their condition he must have flourished before
the present dynasty, and a successor who
would emulate his public spirit was sadly
needed.

“Look!” said Douglas, excitedly, pointing in
the opposite direction to that from which they,
had come, “there is Mr. Meredith.”

“Who is he?” asked Ray.

“The young man with whom I stayed in
Honan when he was ill. His servant, Wu, is
bringing up the rear, as usual.”

The sun shone upon a horseman, slight and
lithe and rather under-sized, who sat easily
upon his pony. His face was oval, with deep-
set, gray-blue eyes, and his complexion so fair
that it gave him a feminine appearance.

“Duke,” said Douglas, striding out to meet

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

him, “what brings you here? Did you not
find the rest of your party?”

“Yes, I left them last night en route for
Shanghai.”

“Why did you not stay with them?”

“A desire to renew my acquaintanceship
with you. The others bored me,” answered
Duke lightly.

“How did you know where to find me?”

“We picked up an acquaintance of yours,
who saw you mobbed yesterday. If he hadn’t
happened to mention your name I would have
recognized you by the description—the foreign
medicine-man whose head reached up into the
clouds, whose hands and feet are thirty-five
inches long, who can swing a club like a son
of heaven, etc., etc.”

“If the description were true, I might be
supposed capable of defending myself,’ said
Douglas.

“The odds were strong. Then I heard that
you had been reckless of your money, tossing
it into the mud like a lord, and were in reduced
circumstances—the inevitable position of a
spendthrift, you'll note. We took up a col-
lection among the surveyors and I brought
over the net proceeds.”

“I’m grateful, Duke, with the gratitude of a

162
from Mandarin to Mandarin

drowning man receiving a life-buoy. If I
arrive at Peking safely I can repay the loan,
if not.... You will say this to the sur-
veyors when you rejoin them.”

“T had thought,” said Duke, “if you could
smother your feelings enough to allow Wu and
me to be of your party we would consider
it a personal obligation. The others are going
southward at the rapid Oriental rate of twenty
miles per diem, and it would be difficult to
overtake them. Traveling alone is rather un-
certain, so J’ll put myself under your protec-
tion.”

“Duke, your heart does you honor,” said
Douglas. “For my sake you are exchanging a
place of comparative safety for one of danger.”

“If I were a saucepan-hatted mandarin,
politeness would compel me to say, ‘I am un-
worthy of the compliment,’ ”” answered Marma-
duke. “I left you with your face set Peking-
wards, how do you come to be here on the
borderland of Shansi and Chilhi?”

“Tt is a long story,” said Douglas. “I'll tell
you another time. Let me present you to the
ladies with me. Mrs. Andersen is a widow,”
he whispered.

During the introduction Marmaduke’s
thoughts ran thus:

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

“Miss Gilmour, not pretty, looks too sad, but
the bearing and manner of a lady.

“Mrs. Andersen—shades of the Greeks !—
what a beautiful face! And the child, as fair
as the mother is dark, an angel embodied. And
yet, why do these calm Madonna-women seem
to lack intellectuality? But what does such
loveliness need with brains? Simply to be is
enough. With my susceptibility to beauty Ill
be falling in love with this soft-voiced Mrs.
Andersen, aspiring to wear the deceased Mr.
A’s shoes, and be stepfather to the enchanting
Goldilocks.”

“We'll put the ladies on the ponies and
march to N »’ said Duke. “I had the
honor of an interview with Wang, the man-
darin there, and he entertained me as if I had
been a Manchu of royal blood.”

Ray and Elsie were mounted, and found
riding on the uneven roads only one degree
less painful than walking. They entered N
and proceeded at once to the yamen. Wang
was cordial in his greetings. He had met Dr.
Medhurst frequently in Peking, and respected
both him and his work. He advised them to
rest at the yamen until morning, and then he
would send an escort with them as far as
Paoting.

 

 

164
From Mandarin to Mandarin

They had, to use Wang’s polished phrase,
“graced his residence but a couple of hours,”
when a throng of Boxers suddenly darkened
the courtyard, swarming into it like grass-
hoppers. In addition to their swords and
guns they carried torches. They were there as
the avowed enemies of “foreign devils,” and
demanded that the “pests” and “well-poison-
ers” be brought out tothem. If Wang did not
comply, and right speedily, the yamen would
be burned over his head, because he was a sym-
pathizer with the foreign sorcerers.

“They have a forcible way of accentuating
their speech with those firebrands,” remarked
Duke coolly to Douglas, as he stood watching
the parley from a sheltered position.

Wang had a good deal of decision, together
with a firm reliance upon his authority as a
magistrate; so, arming himself with a long
whip, he went out, accompanied by some of his
servants, and drove the mob away. He smiled
victoriously after having seen the last howling
caitiff disappear through the gate. A man
who has the power of life and death in his
hands is entitled to outward respect, and can
command it, Wang thought. But what is so
reckless of consequences, so shortsighted as a
mob? And a Chinese mob is the most whim-

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

sical, vacillating horde upon the face of the
earth. It is always easy to collect a rabble
among Chinamen; patient and lovers of peace
as they are, nowhere can impetuous wrath
(ch’i, they call it) be so quickly stirred up. It
is as if they bore with wrongs needing righting
(and they have enough of them, as any on-
looker knows), smothering down all sign of
resentment, until a breeze blows from an unex-
pected quarter and fans into a destructive
blaze the long-smouldering sparks.

The courtyard soon buzzed again with
angry hornets, more anxious to sting than
before. Wang was hurt, surprised, that so
open a display of his authority should be so
openly disregarded. Plainly what was needed
was a severe lesson. Having beaten them to
no avail with whips, he would now chastise
them with scorpions. He tied sharp little
pieces of pointed metal to the end of the
thongs, “quite after the Roman fashion,” as
Marmaduke remarked, who took a lively
interest in the preparations, and offered to sec-
ond Wang in his onslaught.

“You must not show yourself outside,” said
Wang, peremptorily, “that would be fatal.”

The crowd was more furious than before.
Wang was knocked down, his spectacles

166
From Mandarin to Mandarin

broken, his garments soiled, his whip stolen,
and his dignity sorely wounded. His domes-
tics, headed by Douglas and Duke, in a gallant
sortie rescued him from being trodden under-
foot.

Wang, having brushed his clothes and
anointed his bruises, decided on prompt action.
He had two hundred soldiers scattered about
in his District. He despatched messengers
for them to gather at the yamen at sundown.

The Headmaster of the Boxers received a
note from Wang, containing an invitation,
amounting to a command, to have a cup of tea
with the defeated official and discuss some of
his Boxer secrets. The Master of Ceremonies,
an ex-tinker, appeared in due course.

“T have long desired to see you,” said Wang,
summoning his magisterial dignity to the fore,
“because I believe you are a fraud and your
followers are not true Boxers. If you can
prove that you and your men are not impostors,
I myself will become a Boxer and drill with
you. Toconvince me, I propose that you sub-
mit to a test. Let your men make themselves
invulnerable by their spells and magic, and I
shall order my soldiers to fire on them. If
they are true Boxers they will not be hurt and
T shall know that you are indeed no dissembler,

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

but a right worthy Headmaster, and I shall
deliver up to you the foreigners who are under
my roof; but, should the bullets take effect,
then I shall know that you are a mere charla-
tan, and I shall act accordingly.”

The Major-General of the Fire-Proofs
donned that suave, pleased expression which
John Chinaman invariably assumes when he
finds himself tightly cornered, and asked leave
to consult with his adherents. On returning,
he said he agreed to Wang’s proposal on con-
dition that he himself was not to be embroiled
in the fray; but, as beseemed the Master of
Ceremonies, he might stand on one side to
annotnce to the soldiers when the spirits had
come; and that no shot was to be fired until
such announcement was given.

Wang acquiesced in the terms and each set
about making preparations for the combat.

“You do not think there is any magic by
which a man can render himself invulnerable
to the shot of a gun, do you?” asked Wang, a
trifle anxiously, of Dr. Medhurst.

“Not if the gun will shoot and is properly
loaded,” said Douglas.

“Then there will be an exciting time when
my soldiers deliver a broadside. In the con-
fusion that follows will be the time for you

168
From Mandarin to Mandarin

to escape. I will place three carts and eight
soldiers at your disposal, with a suitable supply
of bedding and provisions. Mr. Meredith and
his servant prefer to ride their own ponies.
You can pack the carts at once and have every-
thing in readiness to start. My guards can
accompany you as far as Paoting, where you
can take the train, and you will, I trust, have
a safe and speedy return to Peking.”

The experts in shooting and boxing and
wrestling now began to pour in until two hun-
dred of them had assembled. Wang super-
vised everything, loaded the rifles himself with
balls, as well as powder, and gave minute
directions. The contest was to take place in
front of an old temple built on the wall. The
news spread and the city turned out en masse
as eye witnesses. It was a moonless midnight,
but the lanterns and torches illuminated the
scene with a lurid, flickering glare.

The “observed of all observers” were the
Boxers on drill, making passes through the air
with their swords, sing-songing incantations,
and whirling about in a frenzy. Then they
arose, eyes glazed and staring, and danced
about like maniacs.

Douglas and Marmaduke, from an obscure
corner, watched the dusky pantomime.

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

“Poor dupes!” said Douglas, “it makes me
sad to think that all this farcical mummery
will soon give place to real tragedy.”

“Don’t let your tender feelings overcome
you, doctor. It’s kill or let kill, just now,
and as a true son of Britain with Christian
sentiments, I prefer the former. What a great-
hearted mortal you are, Douglas! You look
as sympathetic towards those unkempt, evil-
featured villains as if they were your brothers.”

“Tt pleases you to appear cynical, Duke, but
you are sympathetic, too.”

“For those of my own caste—yes; for such
as those yonder—as much as for the puppets
in a Punch and Judy show.”

“You belong to the purple, Duke, and have
the limitations of your class. Your real aristo-
crat never originates a reform,” said Douglas.
“Part of the stamp by which we know him is a
*well-bred lukewarmness.’”

“That’s too sweeping, doctor. Lord Shaftes-
bury, now—the Book of Peerages makes him
out to be an earl—and yet he was a radical
reformer.

“He was a commoner in spite of the accident
of birth. Because a cat is born in a kennel,
it doesn’t follow that it will turn out a gray-
hound.”

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From Mandarin to Mandarin

“Listen!” said Duke, “the play is about to
begin.”

Amid the din, the throaty voice of the Head-
master was heard:

“The spirits have come.”

“Fire!” rang out Wang’s voice in answer.

Douglas’ eyes followed the track of the
powder. He saw that a number were killed
and many wounded, while those who were un-
injured fled for their lives. The suddenness
of the Headmaster’s disappearance bordered on
the supernatural.

Wang contemplated the scampering multi-
tude with satisfaction, then sought out Doug-
las and Duke.

“The humble shelter of my roof can no
longer protect you,” he said. “It will be
necessary for you to start at once. The peo-
ple are in a tumultuous state, and may come
back to the yamen clamoring for you at any
time.”

He was steady nerved and dignified, as
became the wearer of a mandarin’s button.

“What will you do with the wounded?”
asked Douglas.

Wang shrugged his shoulders with a gesture
which bespoke an indifference as complete as
Duke’s.

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

“Their relatives can look after them if they
wish. The good foreign doctor must not over-
throw my plans by troubling himself with the
question. I must impress upon him the
urgency of his immediate departure.”

172
CHAPTER XIII
WHEN DUKE WAS WOUNDED

They said good-bye to their kind host, and
bumped over the uneven highway for hours.
There had been no rain in weeks, and the dust
of the road rose in choking clouds. The
parched farms gaped, open-seamed, with
innumerable thirsty mouths. The peasants
who would have been at work in the fields, had
it not been for the drought, were gathered in
idleness in their village homes. Their faces
wore despairing looks. By past experience
they knew too well what a tale of slow, wast-
ing hunger those brown acres foretold. They
lived a hand-to-mouth existence, scarcely able
to provide for the needs of the next twenty-
four hours—little wonder, then, that the
scorched landscape appalled them, and bred
within them thoughts of rapine and murder.

«This rainless country is awful,” said Duke
to Douglas, “but I suppose a kindly Providence
has to send a famine once in a while to wipe
out the surplus population.”

It was towards evening of the day after they

173
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

had left Wang that Wu addressed Duke
anxiously:

“The carter ahead says he has heard wa are
to be assaulted.”

“Do you think he is right?” asked Duke.

“He is a man who exaggerates,” Wu an-
swered. “If he wishes to paint a snake he adds
legs. But the villagers have had a gnawing in
their stomachs for many moons, and are not
patient.”

Duke consulted with Douglas.

“T’ve had some experience with a mob. I'd
rather retreat than face another.”

“So would I,” said Duke, “if there were any
place of*safety behind, but these sullen, hungry
men—they’re not pleasant company.”

“There’s a roundabout way to the next vil-
lage. Shall we try that?”

“Anything is preferable to the public high-
way,” answered Duke, “though you can’t get
away from the swarms of people in this prolific
land.”

They went around a narrow road, which was
nothing but an embankment between the
fields, until they were at the gates of H ;
They dared not venture near an inn, so, choos-
ing a retired spot, they unhitched the mules
and prepared to make themselves as comfor-

174

 
When Duke Was Wounded

table as they could. Ray and Elsie, cramped
and sore from riding in the jolting carts, limped
about and gave what aid they could.

Blossom sat on the shafts of the cart, hold-
ing her white bonnet in her hands and watch-
ing the long strings as they fluttered in the stiff
breeze.

Without warning a rabble was upon them.
There were a few Boxers among them, but
the majority consisted of gaunt, hungry peas-
antry.

“Seize the red-headed foreign girl!” cried
one. “I saw her waving a cloth to keep away
the rain.”

“Blossom! Save Blossom!” cried Elsie, who
understood. the dialect.

The women and the frightened child were
hurried into a cart, and the guards and carters,
with Duke and Douglas, surrounded it and
prepared to fight. The guards were armed,
and Duke had a revolver, and it seemed at first
as if they might beat back the unorganized
ragamuffins. But these dejected men, desper-
ate from long fasting, cared little for danger
or even death itself, and threw themselves
upon the very muzzles of the guns, and a grim
struggle ensued. When two of the guards
had been killed outright, the others, with the

175
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

exception of Wu and one soldier, fled precipi-
tously, and the foreigners were left almost at
the mercy of the enraged herd.

Duke had been coolness itself, shooting right
and left into the crowd with as much cool-
ness as if he were on dress parade, but scythes
and pitchforks came about him so thick and
fast that he was blinded, and sank down on
the ground, crushed and bleeding.

“Tt’s all over, Douglas,” he said with a groan.

Then Douglas heard a sharp cry from Ray
and turned in time to see that a ferocious-
looking fellow in Boxer uniform had dealt her
a blow. She fell unconscious.

“Villain! to strike a woman!” Douglas
blazed, and dealt him a staggering blow be-
tween the eyes with his sledge-hammer fist.

Douglas was terrible in his wrath. For the
first time in his life hate raged in his heart—
hate towards the fiends who had injured his
dearest friends.

Duke was in danger of being trampled to
death. Douglas stood over his prostrate body,
seized his revolver, and kept back the mob.
When one fellow approached too near, Douglas
picked him up, and by main strength hurled
him back against his companions.

But one man, even a very strong and furious

176
When Duke Was Wounded

man, is no match for such numbers. Douglas
would soon have been overpowered, but two
diversions saved him. The foremost of the
crowd had reached the food being prepared
for supper and were devouring it greedily,
while those in the rear quarreled and fought for
the pieces like a pack of ravenous wolves.

In the midst of the confusion there arose a
venerable patriarch with snow-white hair and
beard, who began a speech. The insurgents
paused to listen.

“My brothers!” he said, “why all this
tumult? We do not well. We shall be called
to account for this peace-breaking in our Dis-
trict. Such deeds as these trouble the heart
of our great Emperor, who loves harmony
throughout his Kingdom. Have we not dis-
tress enough already without being summoned
before the Magistrate? If the foreign devils
can stay the rain when alive, may they not
be much more powerful when they are spirits?
We will take their goods and let them go their
way. See! among their stores there is ample
provision for us all to feast. We are hungry;
let us eat together and be in quietness.”

“Listen to the peacemaker. He is right,”
shouted several. “Let us prepare for a feast.”

They untied the mules and ponies, took the

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

unoccupied carts and every fragment of food
and clothing they could lay their hands on,
and rifled even the dead bodies of the attend-
ants.

Douglas stood by and made no resistance,
knowing that resistance was useless. No one
offered to molest the cart over which he was
keeping guard. A wholesome fear of his
strong arm kept the men at.a_ respectful
distance.

Soon the crowd, intent upon the feast, dis-
appeared within the walls of the town. They
had humanity enough to pick up their dead and
wounded and carry them to their homes.

Their backs were scarcely turned before
Douglas was beside Ray with a great fear in
his heart. He found she was not seriously
hurt. She had fainted more from weakness
and terror than from injury.

When she recovered consciousness, Elsie and
Douglas left her on the floor of the cart and
went to Duke. He had two wounds—one
over the left eye and another on his arm. As
they had no white rags Elsie went to the cart
and secured a garment which she tore into
bandages.

When Duke opened his eyes, it was to find
Elsie wiping the blood stains from his face,

178
When Duke Was Wounded

and to see, in the dim light, her beautiful,
lustrous eyes bending over him in pity.

“The rascals did not harm you, then?” he
said. “I’m thankful for that.”

“We are all safe but you,” she replied.
“That is, I mean, we foreigners.”

“I was always an unlucky beggar,” he said.
“Got beaten in my fights at school and....
Great Agricola! What’s that, Mrs. Ander-
sen?”

Douglas and the guard were carrying an
inanimate form into the shadow cast by a
brick wall.

Elsie shuddered. “That is the guard—the
one you called Magog, you know. He and
another fellow were killed.”

“Ugh! How ghastly things look in this
white half-light. I wonder if those poor un-
fortunates have any one to be sorry they’re
gone. Now if it had been I, there’s not a soul
on earth, except perhaps Dr. Medhurst, who
would have lost any sleep over it.”

“Are you so alone?” she said with quick
compassion. “I know how it is. I was so
once, and then I found a friend, and though I
lost him, I still have Blossom.”

That little bit of fellow-feeling made Duke’s
heart wondrous kind towards Elsie.

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

“You paid dearly for staying with us, Duke,”
said Douglas, coming up.

“All pleasures have their price,” he answered,
with a pitiful attempt at his accustomed non-
chalance. “How badly am I hurt?”

“Enough to keep you from fighting again
for a time.”

“Will I be scarred?” asked Duke, putting his
hand to his throbbing head and blushing at the
revelation of his vanity.

“T fear there may be a mark left there,” said
Douglas. “The wound is not long, but deep.”

Douglas read in Duke’s face that he was
much more moved by the prospective disfigure-
ment than the present pain.

“Where’s Wu? He didn’t run away with
those cowardly guards, did he?”

“No; he’s not much of a fighter, but he
stuck to you. I’ve sent him to see if he can
find a sequestered spot for us to spend the
night. I’m afraid to stay here.”

“And that guard—where’s he making off to
now?” grumbled Duke. .

“One of the poor fellows who was killed
was his brother,” said Douglas. “He has
asked leave to get a wheelbarrow and take the
two bodies back to N to their ancestral
burying-place.”

 

180
When Duke Was Wounded

?

“So, in spite of Wang’s good intentions,’
said Duke, “we are left alone to be chopped
into mincemeat if those villains see fit. It’s a
happy prospect.”

Wu returned after a time with a compan-
ion—a Booddhist priest, with a mild but vacant
countenance. He offered the shelter of his
temple, a mile away, among the hills. It was
little frequented, and there was a room at the
rear where they might be hidden a few days.
He knew nothing of foreigners, but something
of benevolence. He wished, he said, to restrain
the people from shedding innocent blood.

“Why should I see you injured?” he added
gravely. “To persecute the unfortunate is like
throwing stones upon one fallen into a well.
There is nothing but a footpath leading to the
temple. Will the sick man be able to ascend
that?”

Duke groaned.

Douglas looked at Ray in perplexity. She
understood, and with her accustomed generous
putting aside of herself, she hastened to re-
assure him.

“I am stronger, Dr. Medhurst. I feel quite
equal to a climb up the hills unaided. This
cool night air is invigorating.”

There were trees near, surrounding a burial

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

ground. Douglas twisted off some branches,
and with them and the comforters made a rude
litter,

“Now, Duke,” he said. cheerily, “we’ll put
you on this, and Wu and I will carry you to
the temple.”

“T don’t mind any kind of civilized warfare,”
grumbled Duke. “A little skirmish raises my
spirits, but this crawling away into holes
where you dare not put out your head lest it
should become a target grates on me.”

It was a stiff climb up the hillside. They
had to stop and rest more than once.

“Are you exhausted, Miss Gilmour?” asked
Douglas, bending over her in one of the pauses.

Even as he watched her he could perceive
her heart flutter, and she was panting for her
breath.

“T think I can stand it a little longer,” she
answered bravely. “It can’t be far now. Your
eyes are better than mine. Can you see the
temple?”

“Yes,” he answered, “there to the northeast,
with trees about it. It’s not more than a hun-
dred yards from here.”

When they started again Ray stumbled and
fell over a root, and from sheer weariness
could not get up. In an instant Douglas’

182
When Duke Was Wounded

strong arms raised her, and she felt herself
borne swiftly to the summit of the hill. She
was too weak to resist or even protest.

As for Douglas, striding up the path with
his precious burden, he felt her weight no
more than if she were a child. He was intoxi-
cated with the sensation of having Ray in his
arms. She was his for the moment, anyway,
and he wished the walk might last forever.

He laid her on the stone bench in the grove
near the temple. He was throbbing with
emotion.

“You brought me here,” she said, reddening
as she saw the outline of the great, gaunt face
above her.

“You were not able to walk,” he replied, not
trusting himself to say more than common-
places.

“You are good,” she answered, “but it was
too much for your strength. You are tremb-
ling.”

His face was very near to hers. Their eyes
met. It was a revealing glance. Ray knew
beyond doubt that Dr. Medhurst loved her,
and he saw that she had read his heart. But
in Ray’s answering look there was no trace of
love, only kindness mingled with compassion.

Mrs. Andersen and Blossom came up, and

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

Douglas went back to Duke in a dream, and
carried his end of the litter without being con-
scious of anything but the past moments he
had spent with Ray.

184
CHAPTER XIV
THE DEATH OF BLOSSOM

The stone bench on which Ray was placed
stood at the edge of a large aquarium filled
with languid fish. She could see, sitting on
limbs of shrubs or any convenient projection,
disconsolate hens, ducks, geese and pigeons of
uncertain age; while from a sty in the distance
came the melancholy grunt of some pigs dis-
turbed in their midnight slumbers. The priest
was a vegetarian, and believed in the trans-
migration of souls, and on no account would
he kill any living thing lest the spirit of some
of his ancestors might be lodged therein.

The temple had once been a magnificent
place, but it was falling down now for want
of repair. The seats in the grove commanded
a view of terraced hills and rolling valleys,
which might ravish the heart of the most
satiated sightseer.

The building consisted of a long auditorium,
at the end of which, in stone niches, sat Con-
fucius, Booddha and Laotze in friendly prox-
imity. On the sides were a number of tutelar

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

deities and canonized saints, elbow to elbow;
the goddess of Mercy smiled eternally upon
the scholar Mencius; and the god of War’s
stern frown bent with never a wink upon a
literate of the T’ang dynasty. Both gods and
mortals were thickly overlaid with dust, and a
cobweb over Laotze’s eye gave him a sinister
stare. Birds in great numbers were roosting,
unawed, upon the crown of the head of
Booddha and the edge of the great toe of
Confucius.

At the rear of the auditorium was a room,
about twenty by thirty, used as kitchen, dining-
room, bed-room and sitting-room combined.
Here the priest ensconced his visitors. He and
Wu bundled up mattresses and spread them in
the audience-chamber, beneath the eyes of the
grim divinities.

The travelers, tired, and glad of a quiet spot
to rest, fell into a sound slumber. About four.
in the morning Elsie was awakened by a sound
which sent the blood rushing to her heart. It
was a hoarse, grating cough. She knew from
past experience what it meant. Blossom had
the croup. She sprang up. It was hardly
light, and as she groped about hunting for
firewood she awakened Dr. Medhurst. They
soon had hot water and were bathing the child

186
The Death of Blossom

and applying heat in every form to the little
racked body. The attack was very severe, and
they fought all the morning for her life. She
grew easier at noon, and wanted to be carried
from one spot to another. No stranger was
in sight, so they took her out into the temple,
where the priest and Wu were playing cards.
Blossom did not want to stay. She did not
like the idols. They made faces at her, she
said.

The priest was concerned lest Blossom
should die on his premises. The death of a
child, he averred, always brought bad luck to
a dwelling. In the afternoon Blossom played
with her doll, asked her mamma to repeat
“Sweet Story of Old” to her, and was so bright
they were sure she was recovering.

“When will we go back to our home, where
fadder is?” she whispered, lying in her mother’s
arms.

“T don’t know, darling,” answered Elsie.

“T’d like to go. I want to see fadder. I
think he’s lonely ’out his little girl. Fadder is
not in the ground, mudder.”

“No, Blossom; he’s in heaven.”

“Yes,” said Blossom, “I saw him.”

“When, dearie?”

“Just now, mudder. He weached out his

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

arms to me. I’d like to go to him. He wants
me, and I want him. There are flowers and
sunshine where he is.”

“Oh! Blossom, you mustn’t leave me,” said
Elsie. “You are all I have. I couldn’t live
without you.”

“No!” answered the affectionate child, throw-
ing her arms around her mother’s neck. “We
will live togevver as we used to did, and
fadder will sing me to sleep.”

“T have seen her worse than this before,”
said Mrs. Andersen, trying to assure herself
that Blossom was not very ill.

“Do you not think she is recovering?” she
asked later. “See! her breathing is easier.”

But Dr. Medhurst averted his face, and in
pity made no answer.

Through all the dreary night the child
suffered, speaking only to ask for water to
quench her feverish thirst. In the morning
the sun rose over the hills in a blaze of golden
glory. Blossom roused out of her stupor.

“Mudder,” she said, “some one is calling
me. Some one is calling Blossom.”

She raised herself up, stretched out her baby
hands to the sunlit splendor, and fell back in
her mother’s arms—dead.

Elsie could not believe the truth. Dead, her

188
The Death of Blossom

beautiful Blossom dead? It could not be.
Just the day before so full of life and glee, and
now—dead. Every hope that brightened the
future had been inseparably connected with
her little child. She had dreamed so many
dreams of the coming years in which Blossom
was the central figure—Blossom admired every-
where, as she had always been, for her grace
and loveliness.

All the hearts in the temple were sorrow-
ful, yet few words of sympathy were spoken.
A hush was upon them, and heaven seemed
very near.

“Ray,” said Elsie later, in response to her
attempt at consolation, “my heart is broken.
That sounds tragic, but it is the simple truth.
I was so unprepared. I thought I would al-
ways have her. Is it any wonder I loved her,
Ray? She was so pure and sweet.”

“She was perfect,” answered Ray; “the fair-
est Blossom of the springtide.”

Marmaduke thought Mrs. Andersen had
never appeared so lovely as in her grief. It
was the greatest sorrow which had ever be-
fallen her, which perhaps could ever befall
her. She was crushed, but after the first few
hours she remembered her duties to the others.
When she came in her quiet way to give Duke

189
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

a drink and adjust his bandages he felt the
hot tears dropping on his face, but though her
hands trembled they served him carefully.

190
CHAPTER XV.
BREAKING HEARTS

The priest went down to the village in the
afternoon to try to procure a cart to convey
his guests to Paoting. He came back with a
companion. It was Lung Te, very dirty and
sunburnt, but stolid and imperturbable as ever.

Ray met him.

“Did you find father?” she asked.

“Yes, but he was dead—stone dead,” said
Lung Te, bluntly. “I brought this to you. I
found it in his pocket.”

He drew forth a tiny gold pencil. Ray
recognized it as the one she had brought to her
father from Rome.

“Had the Boxers been to the cave?” asked
Ray.

“Yes,” said Lung Te. “This was on the
floor.”

From his girdle he produced a piece of coarse
red cord with dark blood stains upon it. It
was an end of the belt of the Boxer uniform.

“The Boxers are very powerful about there.
Cheng-pai and Sai Na and all the Christians

IgI
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

in the village have been slain. You brought
bad luck to the good Mandarin Wang, who
helped you. His house is burned and he had
to flee for his life to the interior.”

Ray quivered. The horror of Lung Te’s tale
was accentuated by his bold manner of relat-
ing it.

“Tf only there were some spot away from
the others where I might throw myself down
and weep,” she thought.

But she was a prisoner. Elsie, too, was re-
pressing her grief, though every sight of the
little dead body of her darling dealt a fresh
pang.

The priest told Douglas he had been able
to hire a cart to come for them at night.

“It is difficult to find any one who would
venture,” he said, “but the man who consented
is so poor he can’t buy food, and if they kill
him for helping you it will be no worse than
starving to death.”

They waited impatiently for the dark, and
the dark seemed to delay its coming.

“Dr. Medhurst,” said Ray, speaking as if the
words were wrung from her, “there is no God.
If there were, he would have taken care of my
father. Dear father,” she continued, with a
sob in her voice. “Who was there ever like

192
Breaking Hearts

him, so tender and unselfish? He gave up
everything to come to China, and what has
been his reward? An unmarked grave up in
the mountains. I cannot bear to think of it,”
she said, the tears breaking forth unrestrained.
“And beautiful Blossom—so pure that a
shadow of the world’s stain never fell upon
her—she must be sacrificed on this hateful
journey, too.”

“Blossom is not sacrificed, Ray,” said Elsie,
her rich, full voice falling like music. “She has
gone to Jesus, who will take care of her for me
better than I could have done. My hands are
empty and I feel as if nothing could ever fill
them again, but my unhappiness would be
intensified a thousandfold if I believed what
you say. Dear as she was to me, I was not
strong enough or wise enough to guard her
from sickness and sorrow and pain. But she
will never know any of these things now; she
will be forever young. And I shall go to her.
No God! no heaven! for such as your father
and Herbert and Blossom? How could you
think it, Ray?”

Ray sat mute. Elsie’s faith was so simple.
She saw clearly, even though her eyes were
filled with tears. She had never questioned
or wondered about \ife’s problems ; while Ray—

193
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

poor Ray—with depths in her nature of which
Elsie never dreamed, or, in catching a glimpse
of, was unable to understand, struggled and
wrestled and fought her way to conclusions.

“Miss Gilmour,” said Douglas, with a wealth
of tenderness in his voice, “your father’s re-
ward is not yonder lonely grave; it is heaven
gained, the battle won. Is that a guerdon to
be lightly esteemed? His death, like his life,
was glorious,” he went on, with kindling eye,
“untarnished by any thought of self. Do you
think that now, he, seeing all things with clear
vision, regrets that he gave up everything—by
which you mean some elegant leisure, the so-
ciety of cultured friends and credit at the bank
—for his service in North China? Even in
this life he had his reward. The virtues which
you praise and which made him so unspeak-
ably dear to you and others—these grew into
full development because he chose not to make
his own happiness the end of his being, but
the happiness of others.”

Douglas spoke with conviction. He was
unconsciously unveiling the secret of his own
life.

“But all this suffering,” said Ray, “the slow
torture, the persecution, I cannot find a clue
to it. Surely a God of pity would not permit

194
Breaking Flearts

such things to happen to his beloved if he were
omnipotent. The ‘heavy and the weary weight
of this unintelligible world’ is crushing me.”

“T cannot tell why it is,” said Douglas, “that
in every conflict of light with darkness there
must be martyrs for the truth before the
truth can be established. I only know that it
is and always has been. God was not less
powerful and less loving when he allowed Paul
to be executed than when he sent his angel to
deliver him from prison. And Dr. Gilmour had
Paul’s spirit. He was always ready to be
bound or to die for the Lord Jesus.”

At dusk Douglas and Wu went out into the
grove on the hillside and dug a tiny grave, and
into it, fearful of being detected in the act, they
lowered the waxen figure of beautiful little
Blossom. For years afterward, Elsie heard the
hollow thud of the earth falling upon her
darling, and to this day she vividly recalls the
picture of the somber grove, with the dry wind
making dirges through its branches.

Douglas rolled great stones over the grave
to mark the spot. When all was finished,
Elsie asked to be left alone in the darkness.

They had been in the temple only a short time
when the carter came. It was Duke who went
for Mrs. Andersen. He found her sitting by

195
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

the grave, with her head resting wearily
against a stone. As he drew near he heard her
voice. She was praying. He paused, not dar-
ing to intrude upon her sorrow.

“O, Jesus!” she moaned. “I am so lonely,
so desolate. Let me see my baby once more;
just once. I think I could bear this grief if
only I could feel her arms about my neck
again; or if I could see her as she is at home
with thee. Thou dost love the children. Pity
me, and send relief. Has she found her father
yet? I fear she will be lonely without me.
She never was away from her mother a night
in her life. O God! be merciful and lighten
my grief. If I am praying wildly, forgive me;
my heart is breaking.”

A great pity that was akin to love thrilled
in Duke’s heart. He stooped over Elsie and
murmured some incoherent words of comfort.
CHAPTER XVI
AT PAOTING

The four foreigners crowded into the cart,
which was designed to carry only one, or two
at most. What they suffered, cooped up for
hours, cramped and wounded and heartsore,
only those who have gone through a similar
experience can understand.

Late in the afternoon of Wednesday, May
the seventeenth, the houses of dusty Paoting
came in sight.

They went to the house of Mr. P——, a mis-
sionary who had been Dr. Gilmour’s friend.
He was a Harvard graduate, and a gentleman
through and through. His wife and little son
had gone to America; but he welcomed the
travelers to his home with the warmth with
which foreigners in a strange country greet
those of their own race.

“Come in, come in,” he said cordially. “You
look like a traveling hospital. Miss Gilmour,
you have left your roses in Shansi. Dr. Gil-
mour and Mr. Andersen——” he began, intend-
ing to ask if they were following, when,

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

warned by the delicate insight which inheres in
fine natures, he checked himself.

“T’ve been expecting you,’ he went on. “I
had a telegram from Mrs. Gilmour yesterday.
She is anxious about you.”

“Ts she well? Has she received the tele-
gram we sent?” asked Ray.

“I think her health is as usual. She men-
tioned that the last message that reached her
from you was from Hwuy-luh,” answered Mr.
P—_—.

“We must get the earliest train to Peking,”
said Douglas. “When does it leave?”

“Not till to-morrow at two,” said Mr. ,
“so you may as well be content till then.”

“Are you well supplied with ready money,
Mr. P——?” asked Douglas, when the others
had gone to their rooms.

“Well enough to lend you some if you need
it,” he answered.

“We haven’t five cash amongst us to get to
Peking,” said Douglas. “The security we can
offer is such as few business men would care
to accept.”

“T’ll take the risk,” said Mr. P——, smiling
and going to his private drawer.

“Where are Dr. Gilmour and Mr. Andersen
and his beautiful little daughter?” asked Mr.

198

 
At Paoting

P——. “I was on the eve of questioning you
before, but I feared the worst.”

Douglas began to relate the sad story.
When he told how they had left Dr. Gilmour
he paused, his voice breaking with emotion.

Mr. P. was deeply moved.

“Dr. Gilmour gone?” he said. “How fast
our ranks are thinning! He always called out
the best that was in those he met. Mrs. Gil-
mour is too frail to stand the shock of this
news unharmed.”

Douglas went on with his narration to the
burial of beautiful little Blossom on the hillside
beside the temple stocked with grinning idols.
His sorrows swept over him afresh at the re-
cital. He was overcome, and hid his face in
his hands.

“I ask your pardon,” he said, recovering
himself. “She was so fair, so loving, and I
really miss her as if she had been of my own
kindred.”

“When they were passing through here, my
wife said Blossom’s name was prophetic and
that she would never ripen into the flower and
fruit of womanhood. She scarcely seemed to
belong to earth, with her sweet nature and her
remarkable beauty. She was very fond of my
boy, who was a happy, rollicking baby of nine

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

months then. I can hear yet the echo of her
merry laugh over his little pranks.”

“We have had griefs enough, but we have
had no time to sit down and weep over our
losses,” said Douglas.

“Where did you pick up your little English-
man?” asked Mr. P. “He’s scarcely the
type to enlist as a missionary; to ride a thor-
oughbred in Hyde Park would suit him better.”

“T met him first when I was studying in the
old country,” said Douglas. “Afterwards he
came to China, in the civil service, and lately
has been out with a party of surveyors. He
heard we were mobbed at H——, and left the
comparatively safe company of his party to
come to us with some money.”

“His heart is larger than his body, then,”
said Mr. ;

“Yes, he’s a generous friend, and as brave as
a lion. His cynicism is only surface deep.”

“T have kept you talking,” said Mr. P——.
“You must go and rest now. Your travels
have told upon your frame.”

“T will telegraph to Mrs. Gilmour first.”

“Write out what you want to say and I will
take it,” answered Mr. P. “I know the
operator very well, and will see that it is trans-
mitted at once.”

 

 

 

200
At Paoting

Ray could not forbear laughing when she
came into the drawing-room and saw Douglas
and Duke. Mr. P—— had given them clean
and whole clothes in place of their filthy rags.
Mr. P—— was a man of average size, and
Duke, who was small, appeared with trousers
and coat sleeves conspicuously turned up, and
wearing a white clerical tie. The old and dirty
bandages had been replaced by new and clean
ones, and the white straps across his forehead
and eyebrows had a nun-like effect.

Douglas, who stood six feet four in his stock-
ings, arrayed in Mr. P——’s garments was a
sight to behold. The pantaloons came only a
little below his knees—“high-water breeks”—
Duke called them, and his arms and hands
stretched so far out of his coat and shirt that
he looked like “poor Smike” when he was
being clothed by Mr. Squeers.

“My tailor has just been supplying me,” said
Duke, making Ray a sweeping court bow, dur-
ing which one of his coat sleeves fell down
over his hand and hid it from view.

“His work does him credit, I’m sure,” said
Ray, trying to stifle her mirth.

“Teufelsdrockh was a wise old philosopher,”
said Duke in a low tone to Ray. “Society is
founded upon cloth. Our self-respect depends

201
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

to a larger extent than we realize upon how
well our ‘man-milliner’ does his work. Our
vestments have a reflex influence upon us.
There is a subtle essence of personality about
each one’s dress, and another, in swathing him-
self in them, becomes ridiculous. I feel less
of a man now than I did in my dirty, ragged
tweed suit.”

“You are conscious of your raiment only be-
cause there is no more important issue than
luncheon on hand just now. If some daring
deed were to be attempted, you would in-
stantly be as insensible to your ‘clothes-thatch’
as you are to your skin,” said Ray.

As for Douglas, having once put on his at-
tire, and being amused at the way his arms and
legs protruded, he forgot all about it. Clothes
were to him only for a covering.

“Dr. Medhurst is unconscious of his appear-
ance,” said Elsie to Ray. “I believe he doesn’t
know half the time what he has on.”

“That’s a sign of his superiority,” said Duke.
“Only great men have that characteristic.
Just imagine Socrates scolding his tailor, or
John Knox before Mary anxious about the be-
comingness of his waistcoat, or Abraham Lin-
coln at Gettysburg aware that his trousers
were baggy!”

202
At Paoting

It was noticeable how the ludicrous and the
sorrowful were mixed up in the daily experi-
ence of these wayfarers. Mr. P. ’s rooms
bore the evidence of refined taste. They
brought so forcibly to Ray’s mind the little
home in Peking, nevermore to be gladdened by
her father’s presence, that she felt her lips
quivering, and rose and went to the window to
hide her tremor.

Douglas, ever watchful, disengaged himself
after a little and came over to her. He was
silent, but his unspoken sympathy meant much.

“Dr. Medhurst, how shall I ever tell
mother?” she said, lifting her overflowing eyes
to his. “It will be like piercing her heart with
a sword. She loved father so passionately.”

“When the need arises it will seem easy to
speak.”

“Have you father’s letters to her and Paul
safe?”

“Yes, I put them in oiled paper and bound
them on my body next to my heart. No one
could get them without first disposing of me.”

The luncheon bell rang. It was the first
well-appointed table to which they had sat
down together since leaving the good man-
darin Wang at N——.

“Life looks sweeter and self-preservation

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

more of an imperative duty now that I am
served again with linen and _ silver,” said
Duke.

“With the accessories of roast chicken and
white bread,” added Douglas.

“Mr. P ,’ said Douglas, “have you been
menaced by the Boxers?”

“Nothing serious has transpired so far ex-
cept ugly accounts of what has been happen-
ing in the outlying districts.”

“Do you believe Paoting will suffer from
their ravages?”

“TI dare not hope it will be exempt when
the demolition is so general. Those in the capi-
tal may be spared; outside there is little reason
for confidence.”

“Then you will be coming to Peking later?”
said Douglas.

“No, I have weighed the matter, and have
decided that my people and I will stand or
fall together. I love them and they love me,
and I cannot desert them now that trial is
imminent. I am glad Mrs. P. and my boy
are over the seas.”

“Tt is an unnecessary sacrifice,” said Duke.
“You have stayed among these people and
away from civilization so long that you have
become morbid.”

 

 

204
At Paoting

“No, I’m not morbid,” said Mr. P——
brightly. “I’ll live as long as I can, But what
would you think of a father who forsook his
weak children at the hour of their bitter dis-
tress? My people are my children, only less
dear to me than my own baby, and shall I not
share their sorrows?”

Duke was silent, though he disagreed with
him. No man can interfere with the questions
of conscience of another.

How, a little more than a month from this,
on June 30th, Mr. P. , with all the mission-
aries in Paoting, died for their fidelity to their
Chinese fellow-Christians, the history of that
dark period records.

 

205
CHAPTER XVII
HOME AGAIN

The incommodious train whistled and
jerked itself out of sandy Paoting, and aboard
were some first-class passengers who were
scarcely able to realize that, after having been
so “sore bestead,” they were at last drawing
near to their goal—the Imperial City. For
three of them at least, there were loving hearts
and watching eyes and eager welcomes wait-
ing.

“I tell you, Douglas, I’m about tired of this
knockabout life,” said Duke, as they stood on
the platform of the car. “The rest of you are
necessary to some one’s happiness. There
would be a blank in somebody’s heart if you
dropped out, but if I had ‘shuffled off this mor-
tal coil’ on this confounded journey—I half
wish I had—no one would have put on sack-
cloth and ashes. I’m going back to Peking,
and there isn’t a soul to whom it makes any
difference that I will turn up. No heart would
be sadder if I didn’t. Even Wu here has rela-
tives who are bound to him.”

206
flome Again

Peking at last! Paul was at the station to
meet them. His sharp, bright eyes spied them
before they saw him, and he took off his cap
and shouted, “Hurrah! Hurrah!”

“How glad I am to see you, Ray! You're
as pale as a wraith. What funny clothes you
have on, Douglas! Are short trousers the
style in Shansi? I thought you’d never get here.
Why, where’s father, Ray, and Blossom?”

“Oh, Paul! we left father in Shansi. He'll
never be with us again. We’ll have to be more
to each other now that we can’t have him.
Spare me, Paul. Don’t ask me any more till
we get home.”

But Paul didn’t hear her plea. He hadn’t
grasped that his father was dead. Death was
a thing so alien to his bounding health.

“Ray,” he said, clutching her arm fiercely,
“father—tell me—it’s not so—you don’t
mean——”

But Douglas took the lad aside and bade
him be a man and restrain himself until the
carts had taken them home.

Ray cordially invited Duke to come with
them; but he, rightly divining that a stranger
would be an intruder in the sorrow-stricken
household, declined and sought out his ac-
quaintances at the British Legation.

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

Inside the door of the compound stood
Mrs. Gilmour, very thin. and delicate-looking.
She wore a cream gown with pale green trim-
mings—Ray remembered her father had been
fond of it. The scent of sweet peas filled the
air—there was a huge bunch on the mantel. It
was Dr. Gilmour’s favorite flower. His easy
chair was drawn up by the side of the table
on which his mail was neatly laid, awaiting
his return.

Ray took it all in at a glance. Her mother
had arranged everything according to the lik-
ing of her father—and he had not come—
could never come.

“Oh, mother!” she burst forth. “God pity
you and all of us. We didn’t bring father with
us.”

“Not bring him. Where is Graham? Tell me
everything—everything at once,” said Mrs.
Gilmour. “I can’t bear suspense. He is not—he
is coming——”

“It chokes me, Douglas. You tell her, I
can’t,” said Ray.

“T have a letter here that he sent you,” said
Douglas. “Will you read that or shall we tell
you about him first?”

“The letter—the letter,” she said. “Is he liv-
ing? Ah, I read the news in your face. Oh,

208
Home Again

God! it is not so—it can’t be. Tell me, is he
alive?”

Douglas shook his head.

With a bitter cry she took the precious
sheet and went to her room.

It was Douglas who told Paul the story of
his father’s last hours, and gave him the writ-
ten message. Paul brushed away the tears
during the narration, having a boy’s feeling
that it was unmanly to cry, and then went up
to his workshop in the attic and lay on the
floor with his head on the shavings and
wrestled with his first real sorrow. There Ray
found him later, and cemented with tender
words the bonds between them.

After a time Mrs. Gilmour sent for Ray. “I
must know all from the beginning, now,” she
said.

She lay prostrate during the account,
numbed by the very weight of her pain.

“It was meet that he should die a brave,
unselfish death,” she said proudly at the close.
“In his lifetime he had no peer. But I am op-
pressed. I cannot get used to it. I must have
time. My sorrow is so new. Leave me alone
until the morning, Ray.”

That night was Mrs. Gilmour’s Gethsemane.
Fierce despair, almost crushing out her faith

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

in God, grappled with her soul. Afterward she
bore witness, sayings of her husband came to
her mind and steadied her. She recalled that
“death would mean just a joyous home-going
after a long term at school;” “Let us be thank-
ful we have had so many happy years to-
gether ;” “Death will not separate us, beloved.
It cannot. Love like ours is eternal.” Musing,
she was comforted. It was as if an angel had
come and ministered unto her. But next day
those who loved her noted with uneasiness
that in twenty-four hours her youth seemed
to have fled. From that time her face wore
the pathetic resignation of the old who have
suffered.

Li, the imperturbable cook, soon begged for
an interview with Mrs. Gilmour. His manner
was oily and bland, and Mrs. Gilmour, who
had reason to dread Li’s propitiatory moods,
shrank from meeting him. However, Li was
urgent and would not be denied.

After talking the merest commonplaces for
a quarter of an hour, Li came to the point.

“My worthy master,” he said in broken Eng-
lish, “I have heard of him. You will not leave
his honorable body in the far-away. You will
bury him in a sunny spot where the feng-shui
men show you.”

210
Home Again

“Yes, Li, as soon as traveling is safe again
I shall send for him and lay him here where
I can visit the grave often.”

“Why wait?” asked Li. “My brother and I
go for him quick. Lung Te show us the way.”

“You, Li? Do you not know that such a
journey is most perilous now? It is only a
week ago that you put up the ancestral tab-
lets and the kitchen-god in your house, and
gave me warning that you would not work for
foreigners any longer because it was too dan-
gerous.”

“Yes,” said Li, showing his teeth and speak-
ing as if he saw no difference between his past
and present conduct. “My master, he fine man.
He understand the doctor-business well and
cure my son. When he die he must be buried.”

To be without proper interment was, in Li’s
mind, a circumstance too deplorable to be con-
sidered in connection with one for whom he
felt respect.

“Does your younger brother consent to go
with you, Li?”

“He have to, if I say. I am elder brother,”
said Li, with superb confidence in his author-
ity. “My wife, she cook for you when I am
gone, and my son, he carry the water.”

“I am touched that you should offer to go,

211
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

Li. I am sure you propose it because you
loved your master. I will talk to Dr. Med-
hurst and if he thinks it advisable I will con-
sent. Nothing you could do for me would
mean so much.”

It was agreed that Li and his brother should
make the quest. An ample sum of money was
entrusted to Li; and—though he had pilfered
from Dr. Gilmour’s household everything from
a silver spoon to an empty tin can; though on
the trip he told innumerable lies, swearing
whenever challenged that he was, or was not,
a Boxer, that he had never seen a foreigner,
that the body reposing in the coffin on his
shoulder was his father’s, or whatever else the
occasion demanded—no cash of that money
was used wrongfully, and when Li returned to
Peking after the siege, the remainder, without
diminution, was handed back to Mrs. Gilmour.
So complicated and inexplicable are the stand-
ards of Chinese ethics.

212
CHAPTER XVIII
IN THE DRAWING ROOM

The travelers had been home a few days
when one evening Duke came over to the mis-
sion compound. Douglas conducted him to
the house. At the drawing-room door they
paused a moment unnoticed.

The homelikeness of the scene went to
Duke’s heart. The room, a large square apart-
ment, was lighted by a lamp whose brightness
was toned down by a shade of Chinese por-
celain. Ray was at the piano playing some
plaintive, dreamy music. Her mother lay on
the great old-fashioned sofa, her cheeks, where
the color used to come and go, were an ashy
white, and her eyes, even behind her glasses,
were preternaturally bright and full of un-
spoken sorrow. Paul was beside her, reading.
He paused now and again to give her a
caressing look. Near the lamp, with the mel-
low radiance falling full upon her face, sat
Elsie. She was sewing languidly. The night
was warm and she wore a thin white dress,
which enhanced her rich-tinted Southern

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

beauty. In the glow of the light she seemed
the central figure of a picture which the shad-
owy background of the room threw into full
relief. A lovely woman had never failed to
please Duke, and he was not blind to the at-
traction of the one before him.

When Duke was perceived he had warm
greetings, and Ray led him over to her mother.

“IT am pleased to welcome you to our home,
Mr. Meredith,” said Mrs. Gilmour in her gentle
way. “I have heard so much of your loyalty
and bravery that I feel as if we had been ac-
quainted a long time.”

“T feel like appropriating even an undeserved
reputation since it wins me your esteem,” said
Duke, instantly drawn to her.

Douglas had to go back to the Dispensary,
and Duke was both charming and charmed in
the little circle. The simplicity, the culture,
the home-feeling, made an atmosphere he
breathed with delight. He was a musical fel-
low, and it was not long before he was bend-
ing over the piano with Ray, asking for this
and that, and even venturing a song or two.

“Do you not sing, Miss Gilmour?” he asked.

“Not a bit,” she replied. “Mrs, Anderson has
the only voice amongst us. She has not sung
since. . . Since. ” Ray’s memory

214
Ln the Drawing Room

flitted back to Blossom and the nightmare
journey. “I wish she would,” she continued.

Ray played on, and Duke went over to Elsie.
What he said no one heard, but she laid
aside her sewing and went to the piano. Soon
her rich voice rose and fell in “Angels Ever
Bright and Fair.” She varied the pronouns,
singing, “Take, O take her to Thy care.” They
guessed she was thinking of Blossom.

Duke was thrilled. “What a voice!” he said to
himself. “It should have been cultivated.” But
in the magnificent voice, as in her beautiful
face, there was something lacking—an anima-
tion, a magnetism, some emotional sensibility
—one hardly knew what. The calm about her
was like that about a tree laden with exquisite
blossoms, which never swayed to and fro, co-
quetting with the winds; or like a radiant hum-
ming bird bereft of its skimming and darting
motions.

A silky little spaniel ran into the room and
jumped on Paul’s lap, sure of attention from
its boy master. .

“This is my dog, Mr. Meredith,” said Paul,
carrying it over to Duke and introducing it
proudly. “I call him Beauty.”

“He is well named,” said Duke. “Why,
really ! No—yes, it is Augur and no mistake.”

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

“Augur! Augur!” called Duke. The dog
wagged his tail in recognition of his name.

“We have met before, you see,” said Duke.
“Out in Shansi. Did Dr. Medhurst ever tell
you about his exciting time in saving him?”

“No,” said Paul. “He never talks about any
of his adventures.”

“Augur, or Beauty, as you have named him,
came to us from nobody knows where, when
we were between Ping-ting and Shou-yang.
He became attached to the cook, who fed him
on a foreign diet of canned meat and soda bis-
cuits. It was in January. There had been a
thaw, and it had frozen again, until everything
was one mass of glare ice. We were traveling
on the mountain track with gorges hundreds of
feet deep on one side. Some of us dismounted
and crept along, hanging to the edge of the
escarpment, rather than trust to the indiffer-
ent mules, In the midst of our slippery tac-
tics we heard a bark, a yell, and a how! all in
one, echoing and reverberating, and about
thirty feet down in the chasm we discovered
Augur sitting on a little ledge, clinging to some
icy underbrush and making the most piteous
noises. It was dangerous to attempt anything
in the way of rescue, but Dr. Medhurst fas-
tened some comforters to a rope and lowered

216
In the Drawing Room

them, hoping Augur would cling to the pile
and be drawn up. But Augur hadn’t intellect
enough to grasp what was meant, and, like
some humans when in misfortune, refused to
do anything but sit still and whine. We de-
cided we’d have to go on and leave him to his
fate. As the cook remarked, Augur couldn’t
stay there long and when once he fell into that
depth he’d never know what had happened
to him.

“About a quarter of a mile after, we stopped
for dinner. Dr. Medhurst couldn’t eat, and at
last he said, ‘I can’t stand it, Duke. I’ll have
to go back and see what I can do for Augur.
I wouldn’t be able to sleep, because I’d hear
him bark all the time.’ I tried to dissuade him
from such a fool’s errand, but one might as
well have talked philosophy to Augur for all
the impression it made. He didn’t want any-
thing said to the rest of the men, but helped
himself to a long chain, made some creepers
for his boots from the blade of his pocket-
knife and started. I didn’t offer to go with
him. I’d rather have faced an army of Cos-
sacks than have tried that glassy route again.
‘When the men missed Dr. Medhurst I told
them where he’d gone, and, of course, we
waited for him. In about an hour and a half he

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

appeared with Augur licking his hands and
face in infatuated style. The men made a good
deal of sport of the doctor, but he didn’t care
a fig.”

“How did he rescue Augur?” asked Paul.

“He attached the chain to a stout tree on
the bank and then swung down hand over
hand.”

“That’s just like him,” said Paul, admiringly.
“Now I know what he meant when he said
the other day his favorite occupation was
‘helping lame dogs over stiles.’ ”

“That is how I became acquainted with him.”
said Duke. “I was one of the lame dogs he
helped seven years ago.”

“Seven years ago—that’s before he came
to Peking,” said Ray in surprise. “Did you
know Dr. Medhurst then?”

“Yes, I met him first when he was taking
his post-graduate course in Edinburgh. I was
up shooting in the Trossachs. He might have
had any position he liked in his profession if
he had remained in the old. country.”

“What’s that?” asked Douglas, coming into
the room in time to hear the last sentence.

“T was just saying Dr. Thingumbob, of the
College—I forget the old bear’s name—would
have made your fortune for you if you’d con-

218
In the Drawing Room

sented to remain with him instead of throw-
ing away your life here.”

“Throwing away my life here! What a
speech! What are you doing yourself, pray?”

“T? Oh, primarily, I’m here in the interests
of commerce; the noble nation of shopkeepers
to which I belong demands my service; sec-
ondarily, because China now surpasses India as
a dumping-ground for superfluous younger
sons. I’m here to make my fortune, and in spite
of my present impecunious trousers pockets,
I'll do it—and when I do, a long farewell to the
Orient.”

“Men of your ilk are so short-sighted,” said
Douglas. “You look at things through a fog,
and they loom up out of all proportion. If a
man exhausts his energies to gain a few span-
gles and plumes, and struts around in his
gaudy trappings for a little before he dies, you
call him successful. But if another devotes
himself to the eternal welfare of his fellow-
men he is throwing away his life, forsooth.”

“With what becoming modesty you insist
that you and your kind are the only right-
thinking mortals, Douglas—the salt of the
earth,” said Duke lazily. “But such vehemence
is unnecessary. I’d rather admit your claims—
in such warm weather—than dispute them.”

219
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

“Ts Mr. Meredith in jest or in earnest in his
queer speeches, Douglas?” said Paul, after
Duke had taken his leave.

“Both, I think,” answered Douglas.

“Ray says you are rather too fond of preach-
ing your gospel of giving up,” said Paul.

“Paul!” ejaculated Ray in dismay, feeling as
if she would like to shake him. “How could
you? If I said anything so unkind, Dr. Med-
hurst, it was before . . . before .
that journey, before I knew you as I do now.”

220
CHAPTER XIX
DOUGLAS AND RAY BREAKFAST ALONE

The next morning Ray was alone with Dr.
Medhurst. One of the pretty and unselfish
things this girl did in her mother’s failing
health was to pour the coffee for the ‘comers
to the early breakfast. The “boy” brought in
the mail. For her there was a parcel from
Rome, for the Doctor a letter from Edin-
burgh.

The color stirred in Ray’s cheeks as she un-
tiea the strings. Out from its many wrap-
pings came a beautiful water-color, a Madonna
with calm, unfathomable eyes, having a haunt-
ing resemblance to Elsie. Underneath, in
delicate letters, was the artist’s name, Frank
Atterbury.

Ray looked at it silently while Douglas read
his letter; then she passed it to him.

“How exquisite!’ exclaimed Douglas.

“Do you remember,” asked Ray, “the after-
noon Mr. ‘Atterbury sketched this of Mrs.
Andersen? Up on the hills, you know, when
the sinking sun made a halo about her head.

221
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

That was several years ago, when she was only
twenty. Do you not think it is very like her
as she was then?”

“Yes and no,” said Douglas. “The features
are true to life, but the expression is idealized.
The artist has put into the face a glint of ‘the
light that never was on sea or land.’ Your
mother’s eyes and yours have at times depths
like that; Mrs. Andersen’s—never.”

“This mail has brought you an English let-
ter, I see,” she said, purposely changing the
subject.

“Yes,” he answered. “The doctor whose as-
sistant I was in Edinburgh is offering me
his practise if I will come to him. He is grow-
ing old.”

“And you—I know your mind so well—it
is not even a temptation to you. You’d rather
live among these egotistic Chinese.”

“You are wrong,” he replied abruptly. “It
is a temptation to me, a regular devil’s lure,
baited with the only consideration likely to
move me.”

“What is that?” she asked.

“The prospect to secure ease and congenial
surroundings for those I love,” he an-
swered.

His meaning was unmistakable, and she

222
Douglas and Ray Breakfast Alone

dropped her head and toyed with her coffee
cup.

“But I have fought this out before, and have
resolved” . . . he said steadily, after a
pause.

“Ah! you needn’t tell me—I know,” she
said. “But the Chinese don’t for a moment ap-
preciate the sacrifice you make.”

“T hate the term sacrifice applied to me,”
said Douglas explosively, “as if I were an ob-
ject of pity, like a beggar in the Peking streets,
gaining sympathy because of his sores. I am
making no more sacrifice than any honest man
who finds out what God intended him to do
and who has a chance to do it. That is, I mean,
as far as my own inclinations lie. But, as I
said before, to renounce what I have in my
power to give to others, that is difficult.”

“T feel as if—living in Peking—the best part
of me is stifled and benumbed,” said Ray.

“The best part—that is . . . ?” said
Douglas, interrogatively.

“You lay bare my weakness with a masterly
hand,” said Ray. “I meant the mental and so-
cial side, though of course I know, I’ve been
too well-trained not to know, that my spiritual
side really is the part most worthy of consid-
eration. I’m net what I ought to be—not

223
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

what you are. Practising self-denial is easy for
you.”

“T’m not practising self-denial in the sense
you mean,” answered Douglas. “I’m doing
what I like best to do—alleviating human
misery. I’m no more heroic than Frank is.
He loves art; I, materia medica. He has to
deny himself many social enjoyments that he
may perfect himself in skilful touch and har-
mony of color. I deny myself for my profes-
sion. Life is made up of relinquishing one
thing that we may have another.”

“It isn’t what—but where, Dr. Medhurst.
Frank is in Rome surrounded by all that is
classic and beautiful.”

“And if I live, I shall be in Peking, sur-
rounded by more physical misery to the square
foot than any place within my ken. We are
each in the place where opportunities are
greatest; each in a voluntary banishment.”

“Decisions in life seem easy for a man,” said
Ray, “but for a woman it is different. Our aim
in life, our surroundings, we do not mark out
for ourselves, saying, ‘This am I most fitted
for; to this end was I born; here was I in-
tended to be’—but they are blindly settled for
us by the choice of the man we marry. No
matter what our bent may be, to be happy we

224
Douglas and Ray Breakfast Alone

must be in sympathy with the career of our
husbands.”

“Yes,” he said sadly. “It is that which makes
some of the tragedies of life.”

He rose and went out, and Ray knew he felt
hopeless; that she had hurt him.

The thought gave her pain. He was too
good, too noble, to wound carelessly, but what
could she do when in her memory lived all
that passionate love for Frank? Yet the sight
of Frank’s painting had not sent throbbing
emotions through her as it used to do. Why
was it? Was her love weakening? No; she
would not let it, she told herself, striving to
summon up the old pain. But, in spite of her-
self, its ache was ameliorated by the vision of
a gaunt face with deep, kindly gray eyes.

She fell into a reverie.

If Douglas accepted that Edinburgh offer,
would she be tempted by a life of variety and
gaiety such as might be led there? She would
delight in it until the novelty wore off; she
was by nature formed for it. And yet, true wo-
man that she was, craving these things, she
knew that, were Dr. Medhurst to leave for her
sake a place where he believed with all his
heart his duty to lie, and believed that for him
there was no other, she would respect him less,

225
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

not more. “I daresay even Cleopatra would
have held Antony in higher esteem if he had
stayed fighting at his post in the battle of Ac-
tium than she did when he deserted, and fol-
lowed her,” she mused.

226
CHAPTER XX
DUKE AND ROSE FRANKLIN

From the twenty-eighth of May there was
great excitement in Peking. The Boxers came
by thousands into its gates, and the Emperor’s
troops did not hinder them. Douglas was thor-
oughly alarmed. A patient of his, a Manchu of
royal blood, had warned him that no for-
eigner’s life was safe in the Imperial City—the
Boxer scheme aimed at no less than the rooting
out from China of every foreign man, woman,
and child, of every foreign sympathizer, of
every one infected with foreign sentiments. He
hinted darkly that mighty forces were behind
the Boxers, forces which would enable them to
carry out their projects.

Faithful servants, also, communicated their
fears to Douglas. Daily into the compound
there swarmed from the country roundabout
refugees who had fled for their lives, and who
told a sickening tale of maltreatment and
cruelty.

On Monday afternoon, June 4th, Duke came
over to see Douglas. His face was radiant, and,

227
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

as an added proof of his excitement, his drawl
was more marked than usual.

“Offer me congratulations, old fellow,” he
said, entering a room which bore traces of
hasty packing. “I’ve got a fortune.”

“Have you?” said Douglas, skeptically, “has
Li Hung Chang given you a pension for life,
or did you find a pot of gold under the wall
of the British Legation?”

“No. My merits have found recognition in
another quarter,” answered Duke, coolly pick-
ing up a beautiful copy of Thorwaldsen’s
“Morning” from a chair and seating himself.
“My aunt has died—requiescat in pace—and
left me an estate in the Midland Counties
worth £2000 a year. Hand me a fan. This
climate is as hot as the lower regions. Why
don’t you look enthusiastic over my streak of
luck? Telling good news to you is like letting
off fireworks in rain.”

“Of course I’m glad,” said Douglas, “but I
see difficulties in the way of your coming into
possession. Do you know the railroad be-
tween here and Tientsin is torn up?”

“To be sure,” said Duke, “but it can be laid
down again. Four hundred and fifty marines
have come from Tientsin into the Legations.
You don’t suppose these dirty, undisciplined

228
Duke and Rose Franklin

Chinese soldiers who carry a fan and an um,
brella in the daytime, and a lantern at night,
will be a match for our troops in the long run,
do you?” :

“T hope not,” said Douglas, “but I’ve seen
securer positions than that of the foreigners
in Peking these days. If the Imperial troops
joined the Boxers and the Empress Dowager
smiled approval . 5

“Don’t croak. That astute old sorceress is
not unversed in International Law.”

“Did you know the railway to Paoting was
demolished ?”

“Oh, that is pitiful. Mr. P—— will be in
great peril—a thorough gentleman, too Quix-
otic for this look-out-for-yourself age. But to
return to my change of fortune, isn’t this a
happy windfall for me?”

“Yes! it’s cheering. I did not know you were
an heir-apparent. How did it happen?”

“My family history is not very edifying,”
said Duke, “so I’ll spare you and be brief. My
father’s only sister was a prim old maid, who
was always unreasonably angry with any one
who married. When my father so far forgot
himself as to commit the offense for the third
time her fury became almost insanity and
she vented it upon me, the unlucky offspring

229
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

of the match. My half-brother, Lionel, poor
beggar, was her favorite and has spent years
of his life in toadying to her whims——”

“What will not men made in the image of
God do—for a consideration?” interjected
Douglas explosively.

“Just so,” said Duke. “Shortly before my
aunt’s death, however, there was an outbreak
between Lionel and herself, and in a huff she
altered her will, and left her property to me.
What a difference it will make in my charac-
ter when I go home,” he went on, satirically.
“My acquaintances, who had quite forgotten
me when I was a dunned devil without a six-
pence, will remember and look up Meredith, the
landed proprietor; mammas who used to frown
at their daughters if they danced with me
will decoy me to their drawing-rooms; my
brother will conceal his dislike and come down
to enjoy the excellent shooting at the Manor;
poor old father, who has been accustomed to
swear roundly at me and my behavior, will
shower blessings upon my head; tradesmen
will fawn and sycophants flatter. Because
why? Bless your heart, because I’ve money.
Yellow guineas cover more sins than char-
ity. You’re unworldly, Douglas, and know
very little of Vanity Fair.”

230
Duke and Rose Franklin

“I know more than you think. Human na-
ture is pretty much the same in Piccadilly or
in the East End. There are those in every sta-
tion who do not measure life by a money value,
who are superior to their money, and could
do without it if need be.”

“Tt must be so, ‘Plato! thou reasonest well,’ ”
said Duke, fanning himself languidly. “Only in
case you, being virtuous and poor, should
fall in love with a fair daughter, virtuous and
rich, if you would escape the scorn of papa and
mamma, put off the declaration of your passion
until you have replenished your fortunes.”

“When you return to England, Duke, you
have a chance to make a fresh start. You will
not allow the old sins to have the mastery
over you, will you?” said Douglas.

“No! my preacher friend,” said Duke. “T’ll
right about face. I’ll be the soberest, prosiest
landlord that ever stalked over his estate in
cowhide boots. Run for Parliament, no doubt,
on the platform of moral reform.”

He got up and walked about, singing softly
to an improvised tune,

“I’ve often wished that I had clear
For life, two thousand pounds a year,
A handsome house to lodge a friend,
A river at my garden’s end.”

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

“To discourse on the vanity and fleetingness
of riches, Douglas, sounds well—if you haven’t
any; but a settled two thousand a year is really
a source of happiness to a tramp who has
knocked about as I have. What a fool you are,
Douglas, a man six feet four, with a lucrative
profession, to stay in this filthy spot, cursed
by heat and fleas and mosquitoes, and lying
and ingratitude and small pay, when you might
make yourself comfortable in a civilized land.”

“Don’t abuse the soil that has provided you
bread and butter for the last two years,” said
Douglas, smiling.

“Nor the friend who stood by me during that
time, why don’t you add?” replied Duke. “Ah!
Douglas, when I say farewell to you I shall not
look upon your like again, more’s the pity.”

Mrs. Gilmour met Duke at the door as he
was leaving.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Meredith,” she said.
“T am glad to see you. I did not know you were
here.” Her eyes were filled with tears.

“You are troubled,” he said. “We foreigners
mn Peking dread we hardly know what.”

“Tt isn’t for ourselves I’m concerned just
now, Mr. Meredith. There are others in a
worse case than we. I’ve a distant relative at
Hsaio Chuang, she’s not much related, either—

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Duke and Rose Franklin

our grandmothers were sisters—but I love her
dearly. I wrote her to come to us at Peking;
but she’s determined to stay in Hsaio Chuang
with the women and girls she has been teach-
ing. Here is her answer, Douglas. Read it and
let us plan to do something for her.”

Douglas read aloud:

Hsaro Cuuane, June 4th, 1900.

Dear Mary:—

The messenger has just brought your note and is
waiting for a reply. How could I rest, even if I came
to Peking? Think what my women and girls are ex-
posed to! The Boxers are practising right here in
the village and have threatened our lives already.
Last night the Taotai, whose daughter I have been
teaching, came and with tears implored me to leave,
since he could not protect me. He said he would
give me an escort if I went alone, but he dared not
permit me to take the Christians with me, for his
own life was in danger because he was known to be
friendly to foreigners. So I have settled down to
waiting for the end.

I am nervous and disquieted, and find it hard to
write, yet I have an underlying peace. We may es-
cape, and if not...

May God comfort you in your loneliness. In all
this I feel He is good and plans only wisely.

Yours in haste,
Rose FRANKLIN.

P. S—My papers are with my lawyers in Man-
chester,

233
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

>

“Her remaining there is madness,” said
Duke. “Wu, the faithful, and I will go and
bring her to you.”

“I’m afraid it will be of no use. She’s so de-
voted to the women. And you shouldn’t risk
yourself, either.”

“T’ll be safe enough,” said Duke, carelessly.
“Hsaio Chuang is only about twenty-seven
li away and I'll be back by morning. Write a
message and I'll start at sundown.”

“Duke,” said Douglas, when Mrs. Gilmour
had withdrawn, “do you know that to go to
Hsaio Chuang now is no pleasure trip? Life
is sweet to a man who has newly fallen heir
to £2000 a year.”

“It wouldn’t be if I turned a coward in my
good fortune.”

“Your ethics, Duke, would do credit to a
knight of chivalrous times.”

“Thanks. To attempt to rescue a lady in dis-
tress, my countrywoman at that, doesn’t call
for an extravagant type of virtue.”

“Have you a revolver, Duke?”

“Yes, a first-class one. Will shoot seven
times.”

“T would like to borrow one.”

“Happy to oblige you. To whom do you
wish to show peace and good will?”

234
Duke and Rose Franklin

“I had rather a scare last night, Duke. I had
a light burning in my room. I awoke about
two o’clock this morning and saw in the hall
a man standing on tiptoe, reaching up after
a sword in a queer Japanese scabbard, which
Dr. Gilmour had picked up somewhere. The
thief had been to the dining-room, for in his
left hand he had the coffee-pot and some nap-
kin rings. I made a dash, but he heard me and
fled. I fell headlong in the entrance door over
a string the wily rascal had placed there to
trip up any pursuer, and when I picked my-
self up my man was gone. Property is not too
well guarded at present by city officials. That
fellow or some of his confederates may return
to-night. I didn’t say anything to the others,
but I don’t like to leave the premises. I’m
loath to see you set out for Hsaio Chuang.
That road is horrible; stones scooped out into
perpetual hollows,’and your wounds are not
healed yet. If you'll stay here on guard I'll
go in your stead.”

“Couldn’t think of it. I might get tripped up
myself and have a scarred cheek-bone like
yours. Have you seen the ‘fair ladye’ I’m in
search of?”

“Miss Franklin? Yes, often. Her home was
in Manchester. She is about forty, I should

235
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

judge; rich and cultured, and possessed of a
most attractive personality. She came to
Peking some years ago to visit Mrs. Gilmour,
and, to the astonishment of those who knew
her, stayed, and has been giving her time
and money to help Chinese women. For two
years she has been down in that filthy village,
enduring—God knows what. She’s very hu-
man, gets homesick for companionship, and
the constant suspicion and misinterpretation
weigh on her—then she comes up here for a
breathing-spell and goes back bravely to her
work ; though, as she supports herself, there are
no ties which bind her but her own love and
pity.

“Safe journey and speedy return,” said
Douglas at parting.

“The Boxers would be doing my brother
Lionel a good turn if they disposed of me.
This is a mixed-up world, isn’t it, Douglas,
where one stands, by no choice of his own, in
the way of the happiness of another?”

The next morning Duke appeared again at
the mission compound. The house wore the
air of desolation which packing up gives. He
found the family out in the dismantled dining-
room. When he made his appearance they
saw there were tired shadows under his eyes,

236
Duke and Rose Franklin

and the lines about his mouth were drawn with
fatigue or pain.

“I have returned from Hsaio Chuang alone,
Mrs. Gilmour,” he said, gravely.

“It was good of you to go. The journey has
wearied you. Would not Miss Franklin come?”
said Mrs. Gilmour.

“IT was too late. I found out what I have
to tell you from a refugee. Yesterday the
Taotai at great risk sent to Miss Franklin
warning her to start immediately. She gathered
her class and they began a hurried flight. The
Boxers were on their track and they hastened
for their lives. But there was one girl who
was lame. She could not keep pace with the
rest, and Miss Franklin lingered behind with
her. When the Boxers were upon them and
she saw there was no escape, she put her arms
around the lame girl’s neck and—faced them.
I need not tell you further,” he said gently.
“Like Dr. Gilmour, she has joined the ‘noble
army of martyrs.’”

Mrs. Gilmour was sobbing, and there were
tears in Ray’s eyes. Duke, too, was moved, and
ashamed of his emotion.

Douglas motioned to him, and the two re-
tired to the empty drawing-room.

“T’m worked up, Douglas, all right. I don’t

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

often think—it’s an unpleasant thing for me—
but there is something about the fidelity of
Christians in this ghastly time that is con-
vincing. Ifthe Boxers don’t cut short my good
resolutions I believe I’ll be a better man.”

“Miss Franklin would think she had not died
in vain if she heard you say that, Duke.”

“T wish you'd look at this wound in my arm,
Dougias. It took to bleeding again in one of
the concussions I got in that jolting cart. That
road is simply monstrous. Traveling on it
ought to be reserved for capital punishment for
criminals.”

“Come into the dispensary and I'll find ban-
dages,” said Dr. Medhurst.

“Why, you're black and blue all over,” he
said, examining the wound.

“Of course I am,” said Duke. “We were
chased part of the way. Our drivers whipped
up, and I was tossed around in that cart till T
felt like a toad under a harrow. Is the wound
serious ?”

“It will be if you don’t keep quiet and give
it a chance to heal. I’m going to put you in
bed and you are to stay here until to-morrow.”

“Did you catch your thief, Douglas?”

“No, I watched until daylight and never
caught a sight of him.”

238
Duke and Rose Franklin

The next night Duke, occupying Dr. Med-
hurst’s room, was awakened by a scuffle in the
hall, followed by the sound of low voices in
earnest conversation. He was about to rise
when the sounds died away and he drowsily
turned over and forgot all about it.

“TI collared my midnight visitor, Duke,” said
Douglas in the morning.

“Did you? Where is he?”

“T let him go,” said Douglas.

“That is like your misguided benevolence.
You turned him loose to damage some other
man’s property,” answered Duke.

“T hope not. He’s an acquaintance of yours.
I will give you sixty seconds to guess who it
is.”

“The saints forbid that I should slander any
of my acquaintances so.”

“What would you say if I told you it was
your servant Wu?”

“Say you had been dreaming. Wu is as hon-
est as a Bank of England clerk.”

“Tt was he, nevertheless. I pounced upon him
laden with spoils. He was covered with shame,
not because he had stolen, but because he
would ‘lose his face’ to you. He explained
that two years ago his father and mother died
within a short time. The funerals were ex-

239
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

pensive because those who came brought so
much less than they ate that he was a ruined
man, and would have to abandon his home un-
less something intervened to save it. The only
feasible project was to sell his three daugh-
ters, and, being a humane man, he revolted
from the thought. Seeing the packing here, he
concluded we would not miss a few articles in
the confusion and they would be a help to him.
He begged me not to tell you, saying that he
had served you honestly, but I didn’t feel
bound to promise him.”

“Poor Wu!” said Duke. “He was always so
uniformly cheerful I did not know he was
caught in the toils of debt, like myself. He has
been brought up upon the precept, “Thou shalt
not be found stealing,’ instead of the English
version. He has told me that at his home he
and his brother have to watch their millet
crops when they are ripening every night, for
the neighbors steal up and stealthily carry
away all they can lay their hands on. If they
dare appeal to the magistrate a lawsuit ensues
and the yamen empties the pockets of both the
litigants. Glorious country of law and jus-
tice! Men are content in it to bear the ills they
have rather than fly to others that they know
not of. But what are you going to do to Wu?

240
Duke and Rose Franklin

Put him in the cangue or flog him with bamboo
rods?”

“Neither of those methods would make him
repentant or save his home and daughters.
Twenty taels of silver would redeem his prop-
erty and give him a chance to start a self-re-
specting life instead of drifting into the criminal
or beggar class.”

“And you think I might pay it, don’t you?
Well, I may, but if I were going to stay in
China I wouldn’t do a thing of the sort. If ¥
once got a reputation as a charitable foreigner
with a respectable income, I’d be besieged from
morning till night by penniless widows with
eight small children to support, or farmers
whose holdings had been washed away by the
Yellow River, or opium-eaters who had noth-
ing to buy opium with, or men who had more
taxes than land, or misery in any one of the
ten thousand forms that assail this over-
populated country.”

241
CHAPTER XXI
AMERICAN METHODIST MISSION COMPOUND

It was the eighth of June. Through the
streets of Peking little bands of foreign men,
women, and children, attended by servants and
carts carrying their property, were wending
their way.

Crowds of Chinese, sullen but silent, lined
the roads. Hatred with no attempt at conceal-
ment was so plainly written on their faces that
the foreigners looked and shuddered.

The little bands were made up of all the
missionaries in Peking. It was unsafe for them
to remain scattered, now that the Boxers had
possession of the city, and they were congre-
gating in the American Methodist Mission
Compound.

It was large and nearest to the Legations.
The chapel could be fortified and could prob-
ably withstand a siege of the Boxers. It was
situated, however, only one hundred yards
from the wall between the North and South
cities. If the Imperial Army openly joined the
Boxers and took up their position on the wall

242
American Methodist Mission Compound

they could riddle the chapel with cannon. Then
—what? Nobody knew, and few dared to
think.

; The Methodist Compound that day was a
scene of unutterable confusion. Crowded into
its precincts were twenty missionaries with
their wives and children, making seventy in
number; one hundred and twenty schoolgirls
not yet sent to their homes, and countless
Christian refugees, haggard and woebegone.

The mass wandered up and down or sat de-
jectedly on piles of baggage.

Pathetic sights greeted the eye. A man of
fifty came in, carrying on his back his crippled
mother of three score and ten; a boy of eleven
was nursing with awkward tenderness his
brother of two, both, alas! were orphans; a
mild-mannered Bible woman was soothing a
black-eyed girl weeping over the slaughter of
her kindred.

The missionaries hurried about until mid-
night, finding beds, food, and in some cases
raiment, for this helpless host.

The next twelve days were filled with cease-
less work. Committees were formed, commit-
tees to superintend the fortifications, the food
and water supply, the fuel supply, the marshal-
ing of workers, and lastly a fire patrol.

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

The women sewed steadily upon the sand-
bags used for strengthening the defenses.

The Gilmours and Dr. Medhurst occupied
two rooms in the dwelling near the chapel.
Mrs. Andersen had gone over to the British
Legation to act as nurse.

“Mother, where are you?” shouted Paul,
tramping in when they had been in the com-
pound a few days. “I want you to come and
see a poor little orphan from Hsaio Chuang,
whose sister went to Miss Franklin’s school.”

She went out with him. The yard was filled
with people, and tents had been put up for the
native Christians.

Paul piloted his mother along until they
came to a bedraggled, half-alive lad about nine
years of age.

“This is Ming, mother,” he said.

“Are none of your relatives here, Ming?”
asked Mrs. Gilmour, kindly.

“T haven’t any left alive,” said the boy with
numb sadness.

“Tell mother how it was, Ming,” said Paul.

The little fellow seemed glad of a sympa-
thetic listener.

“One day the Boxers came to our house,”
he said, “and we all fled through the back door.
We went to the home of a cousin of our father’s

244
American Methodist Mission Compound

and they kept us for a few hours, but the
baby cried, and people got to know we were
there, and we had to leave lest we should in-
volve the cousin. There were eight of us, so
we divided into two bands that we might not
be observed. My eldest brother went with my
mother and the baby, and my father took the
rest of us. When we got out into the street
‘we were surrounded by Boxers. They asked
my father if he was a Christian, and he said
‘yes.’ Then they made him and my brothers
kneel in a circle, but a man by me said, “This
little boy isn’t one of them,’ and I stood still.
The Boxers made ready to thrust my rela-
tives through with their bayonets, when the
same man who had spoken before bent down
and whispered, ‘Run, run.” I turned down
an alley and ran on and on, I didn’t know
where. At last it grew dark and I hid behind
a stack of bamboo poles and went to sleep. In
the morning I found my way back home, hop-
ing perhaps my mother and brother might
have escaped, but our house was burned to the
ground, and the neighbors told me all our fam-
ily had been killed. Even the cousin who
sheltered us was not spared, though he was not
a Christian. A kind woman gave me my break-
fast and a few cash and told me to go away

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

where I wasn’t known or I would be killed, too.
I met some others coming here and I followed
them.”

“Poor boy!” said Mrs. Gilmour. “You look
half-starved. Paul will bring you some soup
for your dinner.”

It was a cloudless summer day, scorch-
ing hot. Paul and his mother sauntered about
the compound. The spaniel, Beauty, ran at
their heels. They came upon Dr. Medhurst,
engaged with a number of Chinese in digging
bricks out of a walk and closing in a gateway.

“What are those holes for, Douglas?” asked
Paul.

“For rifle shooting.”

“How ominous it sounds,” said Mrs. Gil-
mour.

“We're more than a match for them, aren’t
we?” asked Paul.

“We might defy the Boxers, but not the
Manchus stationed there a

He pointed to the wall between the North
and South cities. Even as he spoke, armed Chi-
nese were pacing to and fro on its broad top.

“If they were to fire on us from there, what
would you do, Douglas?” said Paul.

“Run,” he answered laconically, returning to
his work.

 

246
American Methodist Mission Compound

Twenty marines had been sent over from
the United States Legation as a guard. They
were putting the missionaries through a mili-
tary drill, and Paul paused, entranced.

“Oh, mother!” he said, fanning his hot face
with his hat, “I wish I were a man.”

“Why are you in such haste?” she asked.

“So I could be a soldier,” he said, with a
burst of boyish enthusiasm.

Farther on they met men carrying boiled
water and rice into the chapel to prepare for
a siege. The windows of the chapel had been
taken out and the spaces bricked up. The forti-
fications had so changed its appearance that
Paul remarked that it looked as if it were wear-
ing goggles.

The days wore on with more or less of in-
cident. The Boxers had set fire to everything
foreign they could lay hands on—stores,
churches, dwellings, two of the outlying Lega-
tions—nothing was spared. From the excess
of smoke the sky became a dusky yellow.
Through one long night Mrs. Gilmour had
watched the forked flames shoot up from a
position which she guessed was her home, and
she had suffered acutely as the building round
which so many happy memories clustered was
consumed.

247
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

On the nineteenth of June, Ray and her
mother were sewing on some garments for the
United States marines. They had been sum-
moned from Tientsin so hastily that they had
brought no change of clothing. It was Ray who
planned and measured and directed, for in Mrs.
Gilmour’s make-up the mechanical ability was
entirely lacking.

Dr. Medhurst came in and seated himself
where he could get a view of Ray’s face. He
had been so busy for the past eleven days he
had had little chance to speak to her, and to be
near her was a pleasure to him.

“Major Conger has received word from the
Tsung-li-yamen ordering all foreigners to leave
Peking within twenty-four hours,” he said.

“Where would we go, pray?” asked Mrs.
Gilmour.

“Presumably to Tientsin. The foreign troops
have fired on the Taku forts and the Chinese
say by that act have declared war.”

“Must we really prepare to leave?” asked
Ray.

“Nothing is settled yet. The Diplomatic
Corps have demanded more time in order to
collect carts, and an escort.”

“Baron von Ketteler, the German Ambassa-
dor, has been murdered in cold blood in the

248
American Methodist Mission Compound

city,” said Douglas next morning. “He was
shot by an officer of the Manchu troops when
on his way to the Tsung-li-yamen to ask for
better terms for the foreigners.”

“This puts a damper on our leaving Peking,”
said Ray.

“I think it ought to make us in a hurry to
go,” exclaimed Paul.

“We are safer behind walls,” answered Dr.
Medhurst. “If we go out in the open the Boxer
hordes would turn upon us and the Govern-
ment would represent that its troops were
unable to restrain them.”

“Word has been sent that we are all to go
to the British Legation,” announced Douglas
hurriedly, later in the morning. “Every one is
to be ready in a hour.”

One hour later, a perspiring, excited column
formed under the broiling sun in Filial Piety
Lane. First there were the fifty wives and
children of the missionaries, then the hundred
and twenty schoolgirls, followed by Chinese
women and children and five hundred men and
boys carrying baggage of various kinds.
Stretched along the line as a bodyguard were
the marines and missionaries.

Douglas and Paul walked beside Mrs. Gil-
mour and Ray. Paul led Beauty by a chain.

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

They passed in sight of the Ha-ta Gate Tower,
on which stood many soldiers, their rifles glit-
tering in the noonday sun.

“Dr. Medhurst,” said Ray, “if the worst
comes to the worst, you must shoot mother
and me, and not let us fall into the hands of
those villains.”

His strong face was full of tenderness, but
he made no reply. How could he tell what
might be his duty?

250
CHAPTER XXII
IN THE BRITISH LEGATION

The British Legation was an area two thou-
sand feet long by six hundred broad. A high
brick wall surrounded it. Besides the resi-
dence of the English Minister, there were a
dozen or more buildings scattered about the
grounds for the use of the Legation staff. On
the east side was a moated street, and across
from this Prince Su’s palace, a collection of
quadrangles with a court in the center. In this
about two thousand Chinese converts found
shelter.

The Legations of ten other nations lay
near to the British, and their inmates crowded
into its shelter until there was a Babel of sev-
enteen tongues being spoken within its five
acres.

To the missionaries were given the chapel
and Lady MacDonald’s ball room. Ray was
helping Dr. Medhurst arrange things in their
little bit of space about two hours after they
arrived. Suddenly there came a burst of sound,
many guns speaking all at once, followed by

251
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

a rain of shot on the roofs. Ray was a brave
girl, but instinctively she dropped her work and
clasped her hands. There is something awiul
in the first sound of the cracking of hundreds
of rifles.

Douglas made a motion towards her and
then checked himself.

She laughed nervously, and struggled to ap-
pear composed.

“That is an eerie noise, but none of us seem
hurt,” she said.

“The siege has begun in earnest. I pray the
Relief Column may come soon,” said Dr. Med-
hurst.

During the ensuing days, Ray and many
others became as accustomed to the sound of
shot and shell, and as little disturbed by it, as
those living by a railroad are to the roar and
whistle of locomotives.

There was a danger to be dreaded even more
than Chinese rifles—flames. The Boxers set
fire to the buildings about the Legations in the
hope of burning out the hated foreigners.
When the bell beat out the alarm signal every
man, woman, and child that could be spared
formed into lines for passing pails of water
from the wells to where it was needed.

Ray found herself one day in a row with a

252
In the British Legation

Chinese coolie on one side and Duke on the
other. The latter wore the soldiers’ uniform.

“Fine climate this in which to spend the
summer, Miss Gilmour?” he said, making a
furious dash with his disengaged hand at the
flies that settled on his nose. “I’m so enamored
with military life that I’ve enlisted, you see.”

“T feel doubly safe since I’ve seen you in
regimentals,” said Ray, handing him a pail of
muddy water.

“Were you afraid last night, Miss Gilmour,
when the firing was so fierce?”

“Yes,” she said. “We got up and put on our
clothes. I think we won’t undress again until
the Relief Column comes.”

As she spoke a shot whizzed past her only
a few feet away, and he noticed that the hand
passing him the bucket did not tremble. The
smoke and heat together were suffocating.

“Tf that wind keeps up from the north and
they should set fire to Hanlin College to-day we
couldn’t save the Legation,” said Duke.

“Fire Hanlin College!” echoed Ray. “No
Chinaman would ever do that. What English-
man would destroy the British Museum? The
college contains priceless literary treasures,
which the Chinamen reverence more than they
do their gods.”

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

She had hardly spoken, when, to her hor-
ror, she saw a thin column of smoke rising
out of the venerable building.

“What sacrilege!” she said, forgetting her
own peril in the thought of the destruction of
the relics of the hoary past.

But Duke clearly saw the danger of fire and
sword which threatened them as the wind
blew the flames towards them.

“If the prayers of Christians have any effi-
cacy they’d better unite to supplicate for a
change of wind,” he said.

They worked in a grim, desperate silence for
half an hour after that, intent only on the pass-
ing of the water swiftly and steadily down the
lines, when lo! the wind did change and the
flames with their scorching breath were di-
rected over the city.

254
CHAPTER XXIII
DUKE ON THE CITY WALL

When the foreigners and Chinese crowded
into the cordon where they held the enemy at
bay the Relief Column, under Admiral Sey-
mour, was expected in a few hours. The long,
terrible days, and still more terrible nights
stretched into weeks, and still no help came.

The women pursued their duties, with shot
and shell raining about them, as calmly as the
men, keeping cheerful hearts and bright faces,
and amidst their fear laughed over the ridicu-
lous in their experience (of which there was
no lack) as they sewed and nursed and cooked
and sang.

Many a brave fellow among the marines,
whose lip was scarcely yet darkened by the
sign of manhood, laid down his life in the gal-
lant defense, and many more carry about on
their maimed bodies to-day silent tokens of
their valor in the siege.

There were two difficult points which had
to be held at any cost, and which were held
only by wise generalship and continued brav-

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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

ery—the Foo on the east side, which Colonel
Shiba and his followers commanded, and the
wall on the south between the Chinese and
Manchu city, held by the Germans and Amer-
icans.

It was in a brilliant contest on the latter
that Duke came to grief. The wall is sixty feet
high and forty feet wide. Chinese soldiers on
its crest with rifle and cannon could have shot
every man, woman, and child in the British
Legation. The Middle and East Gate Towers
are a mile apart, and between them, on Lega-
tion street, were the American and German
Legations.

Once the Chinese had crept along the wall
from both towers, but the Germans and
Americans rushed up the inclined ramps
and shot both ways until the Chinese broke
and ran. The foreigners having gained this
position on the wall, built breastworks and
held it.

The Americans were nearest the central
gate tower. Cautiously, keeping under cover
all the while, the Chinese built barricade after
barricade, each one closer to the Americans,
until they could stand behind their defenses
and shoot the Yankees stationed at their loop-
holes. This was uncomfortable.

256
Duke on the City Wall

It seemed as if the Americans would have
to abandon the wall. Hopelessly, on the third
of July, they carried down their reserve ra-~
tions to the Legation.

It was on this night, as Dr. Medhurst was
doing sentry duty, that a voice reached him
through the gloom.

“Methinks that tall form can be none other
than thine, Douglas.”

“Well guessed, and to Marmaduke Meredith
alone pertains that voice,” answered Dr. Med-
hurst.

“Tf you'll indicate how to get into this
trench I’ll come down and be confidential,” said
Duke.

“You honor me.”

“T’m rather more hurried than is consistent
with Oriental dignity, so I'll begin at once,”
said Duke.

“Instead of letting those beggarly Chinese
occupy the wall, Mr. Squiers, the American
Secretary, has originated a plan for us to keep
it ourselves. We need it in our business, you
know. The plan is for the Americans, rein-
forced by some Russians and British, of which
I am to be one, to form in single file, leap over
the barricade to-night, and rush on the
Chinese. If they are aroused and fire, it’s so

257
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

dark they'll probably shoot towards the center
and do very little damage to our thin line.”

“That sounds feasible,” said Douglas,
thoughtfully. “I wonder none of us thought
of it before. We might as well prepare to die
the death if that wall is surrendered.”

“To be sure,” answered Duke.

“The prospect of a skirmish seems to make
you happy.”

“Happy! as happy as a boy in his first pair
of trousers. Good-bye. Pay my respects to the
ladies if I’m not around in the morning.” And
with a gay little whistle he was off.

“The pluckiest little chap,” meditated Doug-
las, “as full of moods as his body is full of
bones. The bite of a flea will drive him to
frenzy and he’d face a roaring lion with a laugh
on his lips. He’s rather a shirk in good, plain,
honest, everyday work, but in anything un-
usual and exciting he comes out in full dress.”

An hour after this Douglas was_ relieved
from duty and hastened over to the American
Legation. A number had assembled there, full
of anxiety for the result of the engagement.
The fate of the women and children, of the
sick in the hospital, of the Chinese converts,
of every strong man, depended upon that
night’s work.

258
Duke on the City Wall

At two o’clock, after a long, depressing
silence, they heard some dull thuds, then shots
rang out in the air. Douglas could guess by the
flashes of the rifles what was going on. The
soldiers had leaped over their barricade, then
into that of the Chinese, and there a grim,
hand-to-hand fight was ensuing. Shouts,
groans, strugglings, fallings, curses, com-
mands, all mingled in one deafening commo:.
tion. The echoes reverberated against the
walls.

The men below listened in an agony of sus-
pense. Now and then exclamations broke from
them.

“They win—they’re in the second barricade.
Look! the Chinese are fleeing—they’re only
cowards anyway. What’s that? Great heavens!
the Chinese must be reinforced. Our men can’t
hold out against such numbers. Yes! they’re
driving them back. Listen to the cheering!
Those are American voices! Gallant fellows!
We are saved! saved!”

Later, towards daybreak, some bodies, two
killed and three wounded, were carried down
to the Legation. Duke walked in, ghastly
white, and as soon as he saw Douglas, he
fainted. The wound in his arm was open and
was bleeding profusely.

259
CHAPTER XXIV,
DUKE IN THE HOSPITAL

Duke came to consciousness in the hospital.
The patients had to be laid on the floor.
Through all the feverish day Duke, in a half-
comatose state, found his wants supplied by
large, cool hands, and a soft voice spoke ta
him just often enough and no more. It was
Elsie, who was his nurse. Before evening he
had begun to wonder if it were not worth the
suffering to gain such ministry. He began to
forget his pain in watching her beautifuleface.
Her hard work had stolen no tint of her rich
coloring; the superb head with its smooth
masses of black hair had the same quiet self-
possessed poise as ever. She wore a low-necked
dress on account of the heat, and the soft lines
of her white throat make Duke think of Annie
Laurie.

At night Elsie went over to the ball room
to get some sleep, and she had just returned
to Duke in the morning when she was called
away to assist the German doctor while he
gave chloroform to a poor wounded marine.

260
Duke in the Hospital

Duke grew impatient when she had been
absent for hours.

“What kept you so long, Mrs. Andersen?”
he asked, pettishly, when she returned.

“It was a serious operation,” answered Mrs.
Andersen gently. “Then I had to change my
dress, lest I should bring you the smell of
chloroform, which you dislike. Have you slept
during the night?”

“No,” said Duke. “How can one sleep with
such a pandemonium as there is outside? The
shots have been raining down like hail and the
heat is awful. I feel like a dried herring.”

Nevertheless, shortly after this, this imperi-
ous young gentleman, soothed as usual by Mrs.
Andersen’s tranquil manner, fell into a deep
slumber.

That was only one of many days, days of
sickening suspense and hope deferred. Duke’s
wound proved troublesome, he had a low fever,
and it was necessary to give him constant at-
tention. He was so exacting and fretful that
no one but Elsie could have borne with him
with unvarying patience. He complained of
his inactivity, of his arrowroot gruel and tough
mutton, of the flies and the fleas, of crowding
and bad smells, of the other nurses when Elsie
was absent. For Duke had a mercurial dis-

261
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

position, and spent his life in unnatural elation
or equally unnatural depression.

He came to the hospital on the Fourth of
July and was recovering only on the first of
August. Elsie was on duty that night. The
quartette that sang for the hospital patients
had just left as she came in. With the heat and
pleasurable excitement of the music Duke was
flushed, and Elsie laid her hand on his forehead.

“How do you get your hands so cool?” asked
Duke.

“I have just been washing my clothes in
the washbow! in cold water,” laughed Elsie.

“T’m the unlucky beggar to have to be lying
around when there is such need of men,”
grumbled Duke.

“You'll soon be out now. The fever has gone
and your wound has healed.”

“Elsie,” he said. “I have learned one thing
here, that I can’t do without you.” He reached
up with his uninjured arm, drew her hand
to his lips and kissed it. “Bend lower, those
fellows are so near. If ever we get out of this
hot hole, will you give me the right to keep
you beside me always?”

A deafening roar of artillery made speech!
impossible, but Elsie did not withdraw her
hand.

262
Duke in the Hospital

In a lull, a wounded French soldier asked for
water. Elsie did not understand French, but
Duke heard the call.

“Confound that fellow!” he said. “I’ve a
mind not to interpret for him. He wants you
to get him a drink; but before you go, Elsie,
say one little word of encouragement to me.”

What Elsie said was drowned in another
volley from the cannons.

No lights were allowed in the hospital, as
they made a target for the enemy. She groped
her way carefully in the dark amongst
wounded heads and bandaged limbs in the
direction of the voice, and gave the patient the
water.

“Eh bien! mais vous etes bonne,” he said
as she shook his pillow, straightened the sheet,
and laid his head gently back.

“You may change your mind when you get
well,” said Elsie, coming back to Duke. “In-
valids often fall in love with their nurses. One
of the marines offered me his protection for
life this morning.”

“The—mischief he did,” said Duke. “It’s like
his impudence. I know who it was. What did
you say?”

“T said ‘No.’”

“Ah! there is hope for me then.”

263
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

“Are you sure that I will fit into your home
and ways?” asked Elsie.

“Quite sure, my beautiful Elsie. No duchess
will wear her coronet with more becoming
grace than you your coils of jet black hair. It
is such a beautiful place in England where we
will live, Elsie, and you will be queen of my
home and learn to love the dear old land as I
do.”

“Are there any poor people whom I can
help?” asked Elsie, to whose tender conscience
enjoyment without accompanying unselfish-
ness looked sinful.

“Yes, you can play Lady Bountiful to your
heart’s content. But you will find more
wealthy ones in need of ministration such as
you can give.” ;

Elsie pondered over this saying without re-
plying.

“We will not be rich, Elsie, with my in-
come—I mean we will meet many people to
whom, by comparison, we will seem poor; the
old manor is a tumble-down place in need of
repair, and there are some debts I contracted
in my young days that I’m in honor bound to
repay. When I was young nobody but my old
nurse loved me or cared about me, and I led
a wild, reckless life until I met Dr. Medhurst.

264
Duke in the Hospital

You do not want to hear about that dark past,
do you?”

“No,” said Elsie, quietly. “Recalling it could
do no good. I would rather know you as you
are.” .

265
CHAPTER XXV,
RAY AND HER MOTHER

Elsie sought out Ray before she went to the
hospital the next day. She found her using her
camera in a rather exposed part of the tennis
court.

“Come up in the bell tower,” she said. “We
can be quiet there. I’ve something to tell you.”

In her modest way she informed Ray of her
engagement to Mr. Meredith. The two girls
had been together from childhood and had
shared most of their joys and sorrows.

“Tam glad you are happy, Elsie,” said Ray.
“Do you really love him?”

“Yes,” said Elsie, simply. “When he is so
kind and good to me how could I help it?”

“But is this love—forgive me if I tread on
hallowed ground, Elsie—anything like you
gave to Herbert?”

“No, I think not. Why should it be, Ray?
I could love another child dearly, but I never
could feel towards it as I did towards
Blossom.”

“But Herbert, Elsie, does no thought of him

266
Ray and Her Mother

come across your happiness?” said Ray desper-
ately, feeling as if she must speak.

“None but pleasant thoughts, Ray. If he
knows, do you not think he will be glad I have
found some one to take care of me? I was so
lonely after Blossom died, I couldn’t tell you
how I felt. Life stretched before me in one
long blank. I was so young, not twenty-eight,
and there wasn’t any one to whom I really be-
longed. Oh, yes, you and auntie are good, but
there is a difference between one’s own flesh
and blood and an outsider. I have not money
enough to keep me, and the world is cold and
hard to a woman who has to earn her bread.
I’m sorry to leave China. I’d rather have mar-
ried Dr. Medhurst on that account (Ray start-
ed), but Mr. Meredith cares for me and I will
try and be a good wife to him. I ought to,
because he’s doing so much for me. I have
heard you say you have a horror of second
marriages, but I am young and all alone, and
why should I be condemned to widowhood for
life, as if I were a Hindu?”

“I think you are right, Elsie,” said Ray. “I
hope I haven’t been probing where I had no
business.”

“No, I am glad to speak,” said Elsie. “I am
so often tongue-tied.”

267
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

“Mother,” said Ray, an hour after, as they
sat together making sandbags of some rich
brocaded hangings which had been torn down
for the purpose from Lady MacDonald’s draw-
ing room, “do you think people should marry
more than once?”

“Some people should,” said Mrs. Gilmour.
“For me such a thing is unthinkable. It would
be treason to my beloved. We are still mar-
ried, as we always were. I could not love him
less because he is out of sight. You remember
what he said, ‘Love like ours is eternal.’ I live
with him still, hold communion with him.” Her
eyes shone, and her small face grew radiant.

“How differently people view things!” said
Ray. “Elsie has promised to marry Mr. Mere-
dith and is perfectly happy in the transfer of
her allegiance.”

“Elsie’s nature is calm and unemotional. I
have always studied her with curiosity. Her
mother was a beauty, but headstrong and im-
perious, and she ran away and married a man
who was a dissolute scamp, but as handsome
as he was worthless. You would naturally ex-
pect the child of such parents would be a law-
less creature, but, though Elsie inherited her
parents’ beauty and in her looks resembles
both of them, by some trick of atavism she is

268
fay and Fler Mother

the tranquil, useful woman we are familiar
with.”

“Elsie has a genius for goodness,” said Ray.
“She is vain of it, vainer of it than of her
beauty. Do you think she will satisfy Mr.
Meredith, mother?”

“T cannot say. He is the best judge. There
is an affinity of souls which logic can’t gain-
say. I think whoever marries Mr. Meredith
will find opportunities to exercise forbearance
and patience, Supposing he chose a nervous,
excitable person like himself and they both
effervesced at once,—or a talkative woman
with decided opinions, That would drive him
crazy. I’ve found out no one is wise enough
to pick a wife for another. Married happiness
is a little bark easily capsized.”

“What treason that nautical figure sounds to
your experience, mother. I feel moved to mend
it and compare yours, at least, to a life-boat
that couldn’t be swamped.”

“No union was ever closer than ours, Ray,”
said Mrs. Gilmour, with a touch of yearning
in her voice, “but we ourselves fashioned the
bonds which knit us to each other. Two hearts
are never so perfectly mated that there will
not arise differences between them, even an-
noying differences, and no two ever lived long

269
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

together without finding the need for mutual
concessions and for adjustment to one another.
Husband and wife must learn adaptability, to
accept the limitations of each other, to be tol-
erant of points of difference and not to make
too heavy demands upon the other’s sympathy.
Love is not a diamond which, once received, can
be locked away in a drawer and be found un-
changed after twenty years. Love is a tender,
sensitive plant which must be watched and
cared for every day.”

“How did you promote its growth so suc-
cessfully, mother?’

“By expression, for one thing. I never wear-
ied of telling my husband I loved him, either
in words or actions.”

“But you are naturally demonstrative,
mother. I am not; I would feel like a doublec
dyed hypocrite if I expressed a regard even fot
you that I did not feel at the moment.”

“Nonsense, Ray,” said Mrs. Gilmour hotly,
for years had not tamed her impetuosity. “A
thousand things influence your feelings. Your
love for me is steadfast. You don’t dub your-
self a hypocrite when you are polite when you
don’t feel like it. You know you ought to be
polite, and you act up to the oughtness instead
of your boorish feelings. Feelings are hum-

270
Ray and Her Mother

bugs. Actions should be regulated by fixed
principles.”

“That reminds me, mother, I’ve been hav-
ing a conflict with my feelings. I know Mr.
Meredith would prize that Madonna Frank
sent me because it is like Elsie. I’m going to
present it to him. It costs me a struggle be-
cause it is Frank’s work, but it would give so
much pleasure that I’m resolved to do it.”

“T wish you’d dismiss Frank from your
thought, Ray. Your fidelity to him is blinding
you to worth at your side.”

“Why, mother, you wouldn’t have me fickle
like Elsie, who could love any man, would
you?”

“I would not have a girlish folly darken all
your after life.”

“You have hurt now, mother. You don’t
understand. It isn’t a girlish folly. It is my
whole existence.”

Ray got up and went out. An hour later
she was by Duke’s side. She put the water-
color in his hands.

“With my sincere congratulations,” she said.

“It is beautiful, beautiful. I am pleased.
Where did you get it? Did you do it?”

“I? Oh, no! My talents lie wholly in the
making of sandbags. A friend who was ac-

271
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

quainted with both Elsie and me painted it.”
The noise of bursting shells and shrapnel on
the roof prevented conversation for a time.

“How near that cannon sounds,” said Duke.

“Yes,” said Ray. “That is Betsey’s roar.”

“It is. . . ?I beg your pardon?”

“Haven’t you heard about Betsey? She is
our new cannon. Some call it the International.
the Chinese found it, and the soldiers rigged it
up. It isa Chinese gun on an Italian carriage,
using Russian shells and fired by an American.
She was a great kicker at first and jumped en-
tirely across a room, but now they have re-
strained her sportiveness and bound her to a
beam.”

“Ts the beam Japanese?”

“T never could distinguish between woods,”
rejoined Ray.

“Why do you call the cannon Betsey?”

“T don’t know, unless it is because Mitchell,
the gunner, loves it so well they have named
it his sweetheart. Betsey is a noble female.
She has silenced the gun on the Imperial Wall
that was threatening to blow us to atoms.”

“Dr. Medhurst told me you were to be up
to-morrow. Mother sent an invitation to you
to have dinner with us. We are going to have
our last can of peas for a celebration.”

272
Ray and Her Mother

As Ray was going out she saw in a corner
a soldier lying with closed eyes. His lips were
moving, and thinking he was asking for some-
thing, she went to him. She heard him say:

“O kindly Death, you have ended many
a poor fellow’s sufferings here. Come and end
mine. Do not pass me by. What can I do in
the battle of life with only one arm? I found
it struggle enough when I had two. Why
should I want to live? It was never very much
worth while. It will make very little difference
to any one if I drop out of life. My comrades
would pause a minute to exclaim, ‘Poor fellow!’
and my wife Nellie would be sad for a month
and a day, but she is so pretty and always had
so many admirers she'll soon find some one to
take care of her.

“Yes, there’s a hereafter. I’ve thought of
that. I’ve tried to be kind and I’ve never been
wild. I think the pitying Jesus will take these
things into account, and not be too hard on me
in the reckoning-up. O Death! come to me
now. See how straight and decent I lie, with
my hand upon my breast, waiting for your
summons.”

He was quite still and did not open his eyes.
Ray, feeling as if she were intruding, stepped
softly aside and made her way out.

273
CHAPTER XXVI
SIEGE HORRORS

Duke came over to the Gilmours’ lodgings
the next evening at six. Mrs. Gilmour and
Ray had attended carefully to the cooking of
the evening meal. The food was placed on a
tiny table, but they sat around on boxes with
their plates and cups in their laps, picnic fash-
ion. The menu consisted of coarse brown
bread, slightly sour; yellow rice, cooked with-
out milk; boiled horseflesh, baked beans, and
for dessert the can of peas which was the sole
relic of the stock of provisions which Douglas
had brought fully six weeks before to the Le-
gation.

The banquet had rather a startling prelude.
A shell burst outside, one of the pieces came
through the open door, struck the cup Duke
held in his hand, and spilled the coffee over his
fresh duck suit.

He was irritated by the incident.

“T haven’t another change of clothing,” he
said, glowering at the stains.

“Never mind, Duke,” said Douglas. “Clean

274
Szege Horrors

clothes are not fashionable here. To have un-
soiled linen is to be a marked man.”

“You seem accustomed to shot ‘and shell,”
said Duke, noticing that nobody started or
trembled.

“Tf any one had told me two months ago that
I would sit unmoved through such experiences,
I wouldn’t have believed him,” said Ray.

“Mother used to be afraid to stay in the
room,” said Paul, “where there was a loaded
gun, but now I believe she could fire one.”

“There’s no use cooking horsemeat any
more, mother,” said Ray, when the platter had
been passed around untouched. “It’s too sweet
and horrible; we can’t eat it.”

“It’s no worse than this musty rice,” said
Paul, “Will the Relief Column never come?”

“You haven’t begun to believe it’s a myth
and that there is no such thing, have you,
Paul?” asked Duke.

“If it doesn’t get here soon,” said Paul,
“there won’t be anything left of us to find. Ray
and I went round the grounds to-day. We
were over at the Foo. We saw what the
Chinese Christians have to eat—cakes made of
millet, black-bean flour and earth mixed with
the leaves of elm trees. If we have to come
to that, I’ll starve.”

275
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

“Some of them there are doing that now,”
said Ray. “Such emaciated, famished-looking
creatures!”

“Haven’t they any meat, Douglas?” asked
Mrs. Gilmour.

“It takes more than we have to supply be-
tween two and three thousand people once a
day. They are killing the large dogs for them
now.”

“Ugh!” said Duke, with a gesture of horror.

“You needn’t pity them for that, Duke,” said
Douglas. “The Chinese consider the ham of a
dog a great delicacy. The only trouble is we
have so few.”

Beauty stood up on his hind legs beside his
master, and Paul fed him, looking perturbed.

“We have been having a holiday in our sew-
ing to-day, Elsie,” said Mrs. Gilmour. “Our last
machine needle broke.”

“No wonder it’s worn out,” said Ray. “We
have made over seven thousand sandbags on
it since we came.”

“Somebody has written a song,” said Paul,
“about Mr. Gamewell needing a million sand-
bags, saving ten.”

“I was struck with the picturesqueness of the
sandbag barricades,” said Duke, “They are as
gayly colored as a tulip bed.”

276
Szege Horrors

“And we’ve made them out of every kind of
material,’ said Ray, “silks, satins, carpets,
woolen fabrics, table linens, and the coarsest
blue cotton cloth.”

“Has that poor soldier who was praying for
death found release yet, Elsie?” asked Mrs. Gil-
mour.

“No! the doctor told him this morning he
would recover. He was so disappointed the
tears stood in his eyes. And Harry C——, who
fought so hard for life and wanted to live, died
at midnight. In his last moments he talked of
his mother, whom he called his sweetheart.”

“Paul and I attended his funeral,” said Ray.
“He was buried in the Russian Legation. The
rain was falling, and I seemed to hear again
poor Harry’s moaning, ‘She’s a widow—a
widow, and I’m her only son.’ ”

“There will be a good many bereaved
hearts,” said Dr. Medhurst, “when the world
hears our story.”

“If it ever does,” said Paul. “Mr. Meredith,
what are you going to do when we get free?”

“Hang around until the Powers present the
Empress Dowager with a silk cord,’* said

 

*To present an official with a silk cord, signified
a command to the one to whom it was presented, to
commit suicide.

277
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

Duke, “and then take the first European boat
that sails.”

“How many wounded are there in the hos-
pital now, Elsie?” asked Mrs. Gilmour.

“T hardly know. More than a hundred. One
can hardly move about, and it is so dark with
the windows piled up with sandbags that we
have to do some things by guesswork. Unless
the Relief Column comes soon, we will have to
have more hospital room. And more nurses,
too,” she added, after a pause. “I cannot hold
out much longer. I am so tired that if some
one told me I might have my liberty if I would
walk out of Peking, I think I would rather sit
down and die than start.”

“It is the heat as well as your work that is
telling on you,” said Dr. Medhurst. “It was
ninety-eight degrees in the shade at noon. The
soldier who was on sentry duty next to me had
a sunstroke.”

“Miss Gilmour,” said Douglas, drawing Ray
aside, “I notice your mother coughing. In her
delicate state of health she should be watched.
Keep her from draughts if you can.”

“Tt is sleeping on the damp floors which
causes it,” said Ray.

“Then we must contrive some kind of a
raised bed,” he replied.

278
Siege Horrors

“Since we sent all our mosquito netting to
the hospital she seldom rests more than half
an hour at a time,” said Ray.

He looked grave, but went his way and built
a raised platform of boxes as a temporary
bed.

“What is the matter with Paul, mother?”
asked Ray the next evening when he didn’t
appear for dinner. “He hasn’t eaten a mouthful
all day, and I found him hiding behind the sta-
ble court crying as if his heart would break.”

“Paul has been making his first sacrifice,”
said Mrs. Gilmour, “and he is finding it hard.”

“What?” asked Ray.

“He found Ming, the little lad from Hsaio
Chuang, over at the Foo, almost dying. The
doctor said he was wasting away for lack of
nourishing food—starving, to speak plainly.
You remember the remark Douglas made last
night about the Chinese considering the ham of
a dog a great delicacy. Paul couldn’t forget it.
Beauty might save Ming’s life. He thought and
thought about it, and Ming’s pallid face
haunted him so he couldn’t sleep. This morning
early he took Beauty to the butcher, kissed him
good-bye and left him there. He said the dog
looked at him with such sad, reproachful eyes
he was sure it understood what he was doing.”

279
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

“Oh, poor Beauty! how could you let him
do it, mother?” asked Ray.

“T was very fond of the little creature,” said
Mrs. Gilmour, “but a human life is more
precious than a brute’s. Then I was glad to see
Paul do it, though it cost him so much. He has
been the baby, and we have petted him until
he was rather selfish. An act like this shows
that we have not spoiled him. Others have had
to sacrifice not only their dogs, but even their
riding horses for the general good. Paul is
suffering keenly, but he is not alone.”

* Oe Ok Ok Ok Ok

There were very few sleepers in the British
Legation the night of August the thirteenth.
The Relief Column was near at last. Without
the walls the gunning could be plainly heard.
The Chinese fired on the Legations more des-
perately and unremittingly than ever before.
The besieged were almost wild with excitement.
“After all our hardships can it be that deliver-
ance is at hand?” three thousand five hundred
men, women, and children asked each other.

At two o’clock on the afternoon of August
the fourteenth the red-turbaned Sikhs, under
British officers, reached the Legation. Never
was there such joy, such welcomes. The women
kissed the dusky hands of their liberators in

280 |
Siege Horrors

an excess of gratitude. They laughed and
prayed and wept all in a breath. They sang the
Te Deum, the Doxology. All the hideous
horrors of the past seven weeks were at an end.
The prospect of life under normal conditions
was intoxicating.

281
CHAPTER XXVII
PEKING AFTER THE SIEGE

Everybody was eager to leave the Legation.
Douglas set out to find lodgings. Acres
and acres of the city about the Legations were
heaps of ruins. One could not tell even where
the streets had been. The walls of the Legations
had been battered and beaten until they were
a mass of crumbling debris. In going about,
Douglas was hailed by an American who had
formed one of the Relief Column.

“Hello! Doc Medhurst, is that you? Were
you one of the incarcerated band we fellows
took such trouble to reach?”

“How are you, Devereux? I have been im-
prisoned, sure enough. What kept you so long
coming to slip back the bolts?”

“The same old question, Why didn’t we
come sooner? I had reasons which seemed suf-
ficient to me. It does my heart good to see
you looking thin and dirty. I’ve been feeling
savage.”

“What about?” asked Douglas.

“Why, the well-groomed condition we found

282
Peking After the Siege

the lot of you in, in Peking. I wish you could
view our line of march from Tientsin here. The
thermometer would have stood at a hundred
degrees in the shade if there had been any
shade, but there wasn’t, not so much as a bam-
boo pole. We came through fields of tall, thin
corn where not a breath of air could penetrate.
Nobody but the Japs, who are made of leather
and india rubber and triple-plated steel, could
endure it. The men dropped one after another
and we left a goodly number of exhausted
horses along our path. Then, imagining you
were on the eve of expiring, we forced our
way into the Legation through that filthy
sewage canal and made our bow in—in what?
It makes me swear to think of it. It looked
like a lawn party. There was Sir Claude
in immaculate tennis flannels, and Mr. Conger
faultlessly arrayed, and ladies fair robed in
fresh muslins. I felt so besmeared and
beslimed I crept away, when whom should I
run up against but my friend Miles. If the beg-
gar hadn’t gained twenty pounds! Horse meat
must be fattening. I had saved some brandy in
a flask to revive him if he were at his last gasp,
but he laughed and said you had whole casks
of it on the grounds, that it might have been
better for the men if there had been less of it.
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Knights Who Fought the Dragon

Yes! these walls look as if they’d been hard
enough beset, and, as you may say, there are
a good many brave fellows sleeping under fresh
mounds in the Legations, but if we’d marched
a little slower we'd have felt the heat less. I’m
going around to the Chinese shops and help my-
self to enough clothes for a summer outfit, and
when I’m washed and dressed once more I may
swing around a little from my present point of
view.”

Douglas rented a temple on a quiet street,
and next day the Gilmours and Mr. Meredith
took possession. Some Chinese came with
them.

It was a disturbed time. The Empress Dowa-
ger, the helpless young Emperor, and their
Court, fled Shensi-wards. The interior of the
Imperial Palace, the grounds with their arti-
ficial lakes and gardens, the Altar of Heaven,
where the Emperor performs the sacred rites
for his people, these royal enclosures never be-
fore desecrated by unholy foreign eyes, lay
open to the gaze of the curious.

The looting by the foreign armies was law-
less. It was difficult, at first, for the Gilmours
to get enough to eat. Chinese servants sent
out to purchase food were held up by European
soldiers and robbed of all they carried.

284
Peking After the Siege

Li Sing found out his mistress soon. He had
brought his sad burden from Shansi. They laid
Dr. Gilmour’s remains in the sunny cemetery
overlooking the city where he had spent the
best years of his life. Dr. Medhurst, as his
nearest friend, attempted to speak at the
grave; then, overcome by a sense of loss, sad-
dened by the memory of Dr. Gilmour’s lonely
death, and weakened by long hardships, his
eyes filled with tears, his great form quivered,
and he broke down completely, and was led
away by a friend.

“For your sake and Paul’s, Ray,” said Mrs.
Gilmour that night, “I see that we must go to
America. I regret that it is necessary. I shall
not live long and I wish I might rest in the
same grave with Graham.”

After that Mrs. Gilmour grew more languid.
She, who had always been feverishly active,
was content to lie or sit for hours with folded
hands. Dr.. Medhurst, seeing this, hastened
all preparations for leaving Peking.

Some days after Dr. Gilmour’s burial, Li
walked into the dining room, where all but
Mrs. Gilmour were seated, and addressed Dr.
Medhurst. His face, usually mild, wore a look
of excited hatred, and he forgot his English
and hissed his story in his native tongue.

285
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

“Give me my wife and child,” he said. “I will
cook for you no more. I will never work for
a foreign devil again.”

“Why, that is a new story, Li,” said Douglas.
“What is the matter?”

“When I was gone to find Dr. Gilmour’s
honorable body,” Li answered, “the foreign
devil soldiers came to my venerable father’s
home. There was a Russian and a dark man
with red wound about his head. When they
came there was happiness ; when they left there
was misery. They shot my brother as he was
quietly hoeing in the field. His wife drowned
herself to hide her shame. The Russian
stamped in the face of the baby boy as he lay on
the floor—the poor, innocent, helpless baby. My
honorable mother was lying ill, unable to rise,
and she had to watch while they bound my
father, who is large and tall, and led him away
to work for them. I am going to find him, and
when he points out those who carried him off

. . ” Li Sing’s face darkened threaten-
inaly: “None shall be able to taunt me with
leaving the wrongs of my father unavenged.”

“T will try and help you find your father,
said Douglas.

“T am better without your help,” burst out
Li, in a vindictive tone. “Outside barbarians,

286 ,

”
Peking After the Siege

some of them, pretend to be kind to us, but
when trouble comes all nations unite to beat
us down. The Boxers were cruel, but we have
had great wrongs. We don’t want you in our
country, and if you come in spite of us you
must take what treatment we give you, just
as the brethren from the Four Seas have to
do when they go to your land. We are helpless
now, but the day will come when we will be
more powerful, and then we will try again, and
do what we failed in this time. As I said, the
Boxers may have been cruel, but they are not
lustful, as foreign devils are.”

And while the men stared blankly at one an-
other before this charge, Li had flung himself
out of the room.

287
CHAPTER XXVIII
DOUGLAS WINS

They went to America by the southern
route. Mrs. Gilmour watched the Chinese
shore recede into a thin line, then vanish into
haze. She knew she was bidding it farewell
forever.

The travelers drank in with an ever-fresti
delight the beauties of the voyage. The
steamer stopped at Malta. Ray sat on deck
observing the various throngs ascending or
descending the steps of the Valetta streets,
which ran down to the water’s edge. There
were Maltese men, lithe and handsome;
Maltese women, carrying themselves with an
easy grace; there were Africans and Asiatics
and Europeans.

Suddenly, on the pier, Ray saw a form she
knew—knew beyond doubt. She leaned over the
side of the railing, unconscious of everything
and everybody else.

“Frank,” she called, “Frank.”

He heard and turned.

It was Frank Atterbury.

288
Douglas Wins

He came on board at once. How dis-
tinguished he looked with his refined, esthetic
face and his graceful bearing! How beautiful
his long white hands were, with their tapering,
slender fingers ! and how artistic was his broad-
brimmed hat and rolling collar!

He was delighted to meet Ray. He had been
away from Rome leading a gypsy life, he said,
and had not received his mail and did not
know of her whereabouts. “He could not have
been very much interested in how we survived
the siege,” Ray thought. He would come on
board, he continued, with her kind permission,
and sail to Gibraltar with them.

The hours that followed were weighted with
meaning for Ray. Frank appeared the same cor-
dial friend of her girlhod—the same, with a
difference. He never let her forget for an in-
stant that the engagement between them was
broken. Calm, quiet, unemotional, pleasant,
he gave Ray, with a smile, a stone when she
craved bread. He talked of his art, what
he had accomplished and what he meant to do,
of pigment and form and harmony and color;
of the glorious masterpieces in Rome, so in-
spiring and so unattainable ; of the books he had
been reading; of Italian skies and Mediter-
ranean sunsets; of the clubs of students who

289
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

had foresworn marriage and wedded art; of
theosophy, to which he was half a convert; of
his den and its furnishings, where, in a con-
spicuous place, was some Chinese pottery Ray
had sent him—even his speech was prettily
turned and had an artistic dress; but Ray noted
sadly that, with the quintessence of selfishness,
it was always with himself and his aims he was
engrossed. Her father’s tragic death, her moth-
er’s ill-health, her recent perils or her possible
future—to these he gave only a passing
thought.

“Self, self, always self,” she thought. “The
man I loved was not this breathing marble,
but a warm, human-hearted being. Like Parr-
hassius, I believe Frank would torture a living
soul for his art. Has he not tortured me
through two long, weary years? What I loved
exists no more—perhaps never existed but in
my imagination.”

Beside her berth that night she prayed, “O
God! how good thou art to have kept me
from being bound through life to this egotistic
idealist. I should have hated him and have
writhed under the festering pain of my un-
breakable fetters.”

The next day she could talk to Frank calmly,
even with a certain degree of naturalness.

290
Douglas Wins

“Did you like the picture of Elsie I sent?”
asked Frank.

“Yes, very much. Dr. Medhurst said you
had idealized the expression.”

“Of course I did. A face so beautiful as hers
on canvas without more soul would drive a
picture-lover mad. I’ve worked at Dr. Med-
hurst’s face whole weeks at a time and then
thrown the effort aside in despair. If I could
paint his great homely physiognomy, big nose,
high cheek-bones, hair of no color and eyes not
mates, and put into those same deep eyes his
habitual expression, I’d win immortality. But
the soul shining out, the strength, the convic-
tion, the power, the tenderness and gentleness
—it would take Michelangelo and Rembrandt
fused in one to do them justice.”

Frank took a book from his pocket and made
a tapid sketch of Douglas as he was walking
on the deck opposite, talking to a fellow-pas-
senger.

When Frank left, Ray bade him farewell
with mingled feelings—sadness that a chapter
of her life was closing, and thankfulness that
duty did not forbid her saying farewell.

They were in the Atlantic when Paul, who,
with a boy’s activity explored every part of the
vessel, found his sister on deck, and said:

291
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

“Ray, come with me. I want to show you
something.”

He conducted her down to the steerage.
There, walking up and down, singing softly,
was Doctor Medhurst, holding in his arms a
tiny, fretful hunchback, with a wizened, old-
man’s face on his baby body. They stood in the
shadow, and Douglas did not see them. The
little creature cried out in pain, and the great,
gaunt doctor soothed it with a woman’s ten-
derness.

Ray made a gesture of silence, and, taking
Paul’s hand, led him on deck again.

“He’s a brick, isn’t he, Ray?” said Paul.

Ray closed her eyes and lay back in her
steamer chair. The stars came out and the
moonbeams danced on the waves. She thought
of Dr. Medhurst’s sympathy for every living
thing; of his bravery and tenderness; of how
little children loved him and wise men listened
to his opinions; of his strong convictions and
unswerving loyalty to them, and as she thought
questions arose and clamored for an answer.
The night grew chilly.

A tall form whose outlines there was no mis-
taking brought a rug and threw it over her,
and then sat down beside her.

“Ray,” he said, taking one of her cold hands

292
Douglas Wins

in his great, warm palm. “I love you—have
loved you always, I think, ever since that first
evening we met. I want my answer now. I
have waited a long time. Do you care for me?”

“Yes, I care for you,” she answered, with
the frankness which was one of her charms,
“but whether it’s in the right way—I mean the
way you want—I don’t know. Be patient witb
me until I explain.”

He raised the little hand to his lips.

“No!” she said, with a gesture of disap-
proval, “you mustn’t be too certain. I’m not.
Don’t take things for granted, Douglas, but
help me. You know I loved Frank, would
still be loving him if he had been different.”

“Ts that feeling not past now, Ray?”

“Yes, gone forever and ever. But, Douglas,
I loved him passionately. He stirred all the
depths of my nature. I gave to him what you
give to me and what I am unworthy of, for I
can never give it again.”

His breathing was hard. His hand closed
with an unconscious grip over the slender fin-
gers he held.

“What can you give me, then, Ray?” he
asked, with a hungry pleading in his eyes.

“Admiration and respect and honor without
stint,” she said slowly, weighing her words,

293
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

“and yes—an affection calm and quiet, like that
I feel for my mother.”

“Is that love—love enough to marry me,
Ray ?” he said.

“That is just what I don’t know, Douglas.
Does any one ever love twice, I wonder?—
that is, any one who loves deeply. Then, I’m
not heroic and self-sacrificing as you are. You
are blinded to my real self. I’m no mate for
you. I’m contemptible in my own eyes often
and often. Why don’t you despise me for an
ease-loving creature? Why did you ever love
mie ?””

“Love you, darling,” he echoed, passionately.
“I love you because I was born to, I think.
I can no more help it than I can help the circu-
lation of my blood.”

“I know,” she said gently, “because I had
that maddening, delirious love once, and Doug-
las, I haven’t it now. Can you be satisfied with
less?”

“T have thought sometimes,” he said, speak-
ing with an effort, “that if I could be near you
always and have the right to shield you—if you
were only mine—mine, darling, what presump-
tion it seems to say it?—that that would con-
tent me; but in my calmer moments I know
that, dear as you are to me, I would not want

294
Douglas Wins

to marry you unless you could give me your
whole heart, your whole heart, Ray. I know
how generous and strong and loving it is; that
is why I want it. You can never feel towards
me exactly as you did towards Frank; the same
feelings seldom come twice in life—but I covet
, . ” He broke off and threw a piece of
wood into the phosphorescent water. The
breeze blew soft tendrils of her hair upon his
cheek. “Ray, my darling,” he said in husky
tones, “in spite of everything, I covet you—
you. God knows I never thought myself worthy
of you, never thought that the monotony
and comparative poverty of such a life as I
could offer you should be your lot. In my mad-
dest moments I have felt that if you would be
happier anywhere else than with me, that is
the spot I would single out for you.”

There was a silence.

The steel-gray eyes, with their depths of
power and tenderness were doing deadly work.
Something new and delightful stirred in Ray’s
heart. The passionate wooing of this strong
man was like nectar to her. She had been so
numbed, so chilled, that, by contrast, this fer-
vent adoration roused her. All the affection in
her loving nature, the affection that had been
repressed, leaped up and rushed forth to meet

295
Knights Who Fought the Dragon

the heart laid bare before her. In a flash she
knew all she had been struggling to know. All
this world and the pleasures of it would mean
nothing to her if Douglas Medhurst were not
by her side.

“Douglas! Douglas! I. begin to understand.
How patient you have been and how blind I
was that I did not see it before. I couldn’t be
happy anywhere away from you.”

“And China, Ray?” he questioned.

“Seeing you are going to be there and I must
have you, there seems no alternative,” she
said, gaily.

“Ray, you are too true to trifle. You love me
then, at last. You’re sure, darling?” he asked,
half-frightened at the greatness of his happi-
ness.

“Quite sure,” she said, lifting her head fear-
lessly to meet his searching gaze. “Accept me
and don’t doubt, dearest,” she added in the
softest possible whisper.

What followed was worth to Douglas all his
years of waiting.

When Mrs. Gilmour came to look for Ray
later, from the happy look on the two faces, she
divined, before Douglas told her, what had oc-
curred, ,

“Congratulations, old fellow,” said Duke, as

296
Douglas Wins

they paced the deck at midnight. “You’ve won
a jewel, and you deserve it. We are two of
the luckiest dogs under heaven. Look at the
lights yonder. I believe that is Southampton,
my own, my native land. Hurrah! Hurrah!
for England, and farewell to the land of Ah
Sin.”

297
 
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