and, who, having pictured the I.G. boiled in oil, found
him quietly ordering clothes for a future which was still uncertain!
As it happened his forethought was providential, for the parcel of
warm clothing arrived in Peking on the morning of October 26th, when
the I.G. waked to find autumn changed to winter in a night, and the
ground thickly powdered with snow.

The "anxious fortnight," he spoke of was, after all, safely weathered.
On the night of August 13th, which happened to be fine and clear,
the far-away guns of the relief force outside the city sounded so
distinctly that all those in the Legation were aroused in a moment.
The sleepers sprang to their feet; and the sentries answered the
welcome voices of the pom-poms, careless of their own long-saved
ammunition. Next day the relieving troops were in the city, and
the besieged, in defiance of orders (the Chinese were still firing
heavily), were out to meet them beyond the last barricade, and close
by the historic water gate. No words could adequately picture the
intense excitement of that meeting; emotion touched for a moment the
most unemotional, and I may say, without exaggeration, that there was
not a dry eye, blue or black, nor a voice which could give a cheer
without a break in it.

Soon after the I.G. had the dangerous pleasure of reading his own
obituary notices, and then, very much alive again, he set to work
once more. Not for him was a change of air and scene possible. As he
whimsically remarked to some one who urged him to take a rest after
the discomforts and trials of the Siege, "I have had my holiday
already. Eight weeks of doing nothing,--what more could a man expect?"

The Yamen Secretaries were seeking him out three days after the last
shot was fired--while he still remained in the Legation--eagerly
enquiring what he thought of the possibility of beginning negotiations
with the Powers. How could order be brought out of chaos?

[Illustration: SIR ROBERT HART AND A GROUP OF CUSTOMS PEOPLE.]

As a famous Chinese, Ku Hung Ming, author of the "Papers from a
Viceroy's Yamen," afterwards said, "All great men are optimists,
and Sir Robert Hart was the greatest optimist we had in 1900." His
hopefulness encouraged the officials so much that the heads of the
Yamen soon sent word they also wished to consult him: this business,
if there was any hope of its success, was too big to be entrusted to
deputies. Accordingly he began a search for new offices, since