Yet, in spite of their warnings, Li showed sufficient absence of
superstition and sufficient patriotism to go, which was certainly
rather noble of him, more especially as his personal inclination was
against touching the affair at all. This he told the I.G. frankly when
they met, and even upbraided Robert Hart rather sharply for, as he
said, "dragging him into the business. If they fail--and there has
been no luck about these negotiations before--I shall be blamed,
whereas if they succeed, it is most unlikely that I shall get any
credit."

But the I.G. reassured him in answer to his complaints. "There will
be no trouble," said he, "no trouble at all if you work with me. Say
nothing, arrange nothing, promise nothing that we do not both agree
upon beforehand." Every evening at ten o'clock, therefore, the I.G.
would go to Li's house, and the two would remain talking, often far
into the night, of what had been done during the day and what was to
be done on the morrow.

Unfortunately in some mysterious way the plans and proposals they
discussed leaked out, allowing the other side to checkmate their best
moves and woefully retard progress. It was really too provoking just
as these troublesome negotiations promised to end so well; it meant
precious time wasted; it meant unnecessary anxiety and worry. But no
matter, history has never been made without trouble to its makers;
the I.G. was well prepared for obstacles; he met them with patience,
discovered their cause with rare intelligence, remedied them with
despatch--and this time the Convention was safely signed. Pens had
been poised over it so long that I can imagine he breathed a sigh of
relief when the signatures were actually on the document.