. He swore,
indeed, that he had just escaped in time, as the enemy's rifles were
all pointed towards him from a number of positions just beneath the
Imperial city wall, which we could not see from our lines. So nothing
more was done by our headquarters, and an hour passed away with all
the world waiting, but with no Imperial despatch brought to us.

The sun was now down only six inches above the pink walls--in another
hour it would be dark and our position would be exactly the same as
before. On all sides our fighting line had clambered over their
barricades and were examining the enemy's silent ones with curiosity.
Beyond the fortified Hanlin courtyards, to the north of the British
Legation courtyards, which had been occupied and heavily sandbagged
after the big fires there, so as to keep the enemy at a safe
distance--the mass of ruins were indeed as silent and as deserted as a
graveyard. Cautiously escalading walls and pushing down narrow
alleyways, some of us advanced several hundred yards to see what was
happening beyond; and presently, standing on the top of an unbroken
wall line, there were the Palace gates and the mysterious pink walls
almost within a stone's throw of us. The sun had moved still farther
west, and its slanting rays now struck the Imperial city, under whose
orders we had been so lustily bombarded, with a wonderful light. Just
outside the Palace gates were crowds of Manchu and Chinese
soldiery--infantry, cavalry, and gunners grouped all together in one
vast mass of colour. Never in my life have I seen such a wonderful
panorama--such a brilliant blaze in such rude and barbaric
surroundings. There were jackets and tunics of every colour;
trouserings of blood red embroidered with black dragons; great
two-handed swords in some hands; men armed with bows and arrows mixing
with Tung Fu-hsian's Kansu horsemen, who had the most modern carbines
slung across their backs. There were blue banners, yellow banners
embroidered with black, white and red flags, both triangular and
square, all presented in a jumble to our wondering eyes. The Kansu
soldiery of Tung Fu-hsiang's command were easy to pick out from among
the milder looking Peking Banner troops. Tanned almost to a colour of
chocolate by years of campaigning in the sun, of sturdy and muscular
physique, these men who desired to be our butchers showed by their
aspect what little pity we should meet with if they were allowed to
break in on us. Men from all th