blossomed into the real power behind the Throne, hastens off once more
to the palace of Prince Tuan, the father of the titular heir-apparent.
As Prince Tuan's discretion has long since been cast to the winds,
and Lao t'uan-yeh, or spiritual Boxer chiefs, now sit at the princely
banqueting tables discussing the terms on which they will rush the
Tartar city with their flags unfurled and their yelling forces behind
them, a foolish and irresolute government, made up of the most diverse
elements, and a rouge-smirched Empress Dowager, will then have to side
with them or be begulfed too. Anxiously listening, "Cobbler's-wax" Li
weights the odds, for no fool is this false eunuch, who through his
manly charms leads an Empress who in turn leads an empire. Half
suspicious and wholly unconvinced, he questions and demands the exact
number of invulnerables that can be placed in line; and is forthwith
assured, with braggart Chinese choruses, that they are as locusts,
that the whole earth swarms with them, that the movement is
unconquerable. Still unconvinced, the false eunuch takes his
departure, and then the Throne decrees and counter decrees in agonised
Edicts. It is noticed, too, that the distributors of the official
organ, the _Peking Gazette_, no longer staidly walk their rounds,
pausing to gossip with their friends, but run with their wooden-block
printed Edicts wet from the presses, and shout indiscreetly to the
passers-by, "Aside, our business is important." In all faith there is
something in this movement. It is also noticed that roughness and
rudeness are growing in the streets; little things that are always the
precursors of the coming storm in the East are freely indulged in, and
"foreign devil" is now almost a chorus. The atmosphere is obviously
unwholesome, but guards have been ordered and it will soon be well.
All these other things of which I speak are merely native reports....

Meanwhile each Legation does not forget its dignity, but walks