the rescue and shouted the marauders out of the place. That is the
nearest danger which has been heard of. Immediately after this some
Legation students, riding out on the sands under the Tartar Wall, were
openly attacked by spear-armed men, and only escaped by galloping
furiously and firing the revolvers which everyone now carries. Most
important of all, however, to us is that aged Sir R---- H---- is
hauling down his colours, and has been rapidly calling in all his
scattered staff who live near the premises of the Tsung-li
Yamen--China's Foreign Office. Here we are, the Legations of all
Europe, with five hundred sailors and marines cleaning their rifles
and marking out distances in the capital of a so-called friendly
Power; with our _pro forma_ despatches still being despatched while
our real messages are frightened; attempting to weather a storm which
the Chinese Government is powerless to arrest. The very passers-by are
becoming sheep-eyed and are looking at us askance.

Passers-by, did I say? But do not imagine from this that there are
many of these, for the Chinese have been for days avoiding the
Legation quarter as if it were plague-stricken, and sounds that were
so roaring a few weeks ago are now daily becoming more and more
scarce. A blight is settling on us, for we are accursed by the whole
population of North China, and who knows what will be the fate of
those seen lurking near the foreigner?

And now when we wander even in our own streets--that is, those
abutting immediately on our compounds of the Legation area--a new
nickname salutes our ears. No longer are we mere _yang kuei-tzu_,
foreign devils; we have risen to the proud estate of _ta mao-tzu_, or
long-haired ones of the first class. _Mao-tzu_ is a term of some
contemptuous strength, since _mao_ is the hair of animals, and our