, perceiving the hopelessness of
continuing any longer the unequal contest, ordered "the retreat" to be
sounded.

Then came the most harrowing scene of all.

If the Chinese fire had been hot before, its intensity was increased
tenfold as soon as the bugle-call echoed out shrilly between the reports
of the heavy guns and fusillade of the musketry, and the remnants of the
gallant little band began to fall back on their boats, retiring in
wonderful order despite the cruel pelting they received on all sides,
not a wounded man being left behind whose life could be saved.

A wonder it was, though, as Larkyns said, that a single soul escaped;
for the guns which were aimed at the poor, worn-out fellows as they
waded out through the mud to their boats, were now turned on the latter
as they got into these, scattering grape as they were massed together,
and when the gunboat advanced to their rescue.

"Boom!" came the round shot hopping over them; and "Bang!" and "Rattle!"
and "Rattle!" and "Bang!" they went on incessantly until all were out of
range, the boats in tow resembling a funeral procession which, with its
weird surroundings, seemed like Holbein's "Dance of Death."

It was such a ghastly picture, which those who saw it will never forget.

The lapping water had by this time overflowed the shelving banks of the
river, which spread out far beyond its regular bounds into the reedy
plains and marshes on either hand, the swollen stream bringing down, as
the tide ebbed again towards midnight, the wreckage of the gunboats that
had been sunk during the conflict.

Broken spars and the remnants of the destroyed booms floated along,
impeding the progress of the craft that had escaped, and blocking the
narrow channel where only sufficient depth could be obtained to admit of
their passage out to sea; while the corpses of the slain that had fallen
overboard floated by similarly on the turbid bosom of the Peiho.

All these baffled our poor fellows who were struggling for their lives
when the boats upset, and endeavouring to swim to the steamers, which,
on their part, were trying their hardest to get across the bar before it
would be too late!

All the time, too, the Manchurian marksmen were busy taking pot-shots at
some unhappy survivor wallowing in the mud under the forts, which were
firing furiously without a moment's cessation, lighting up the hideous
scene on which the dark heavens above, without a star to be seen, looked
do