What has happened to justify all this, you will ask? Well, permit me
to speak.

The day before yesterday several Englishmen rode down to the Machiapu
railway station, which is just outside the Chinese city, and is our
Peking station, to welcome, as they thought, Admiral S---- and his
reinforcements, so despairingly telegraphed for by the British
Legation just fourteen days later than should have been done. Their
passage to the station was unmarked by incidents, excepting that they
noted with apprehension the thickly clustering tents of Kansu soldiery
in the open spaces fronting the vast Temples of Heaven and
Agriculture. Once the station was reached a weary wait began, with
nothing to relieve the tedium, for the vast crowds which usually
surround the "fire-cart stopping-place," to translate the vernacular,
all had disappeared, and in place of the former noisiness there was
nothing but silence.

At last, somewhat downcast, our Englishmen were forced to return
without a word of news, passing into the Chinese city when it was
almost dusk. Alas! the Kansu soldiery, after the manner of all
Celestials, were taking the air in the twilight; and no sooner did
they spy the hated foreigner than hoots and curses rose louder and
louder. The horsemen quickened their pace, stones flew, and had it not
been for the presence of mind of one man they would have been torn to
pieces. They left the great main street of the outer city in a
tremendous uproar and seemed glad to be back among friends.

Yesterday, the 11th, it seemed absolutely certain S---- would arrive,
since he must have left Tientsin on the 10th, and it is only ninety
miles by rail. The Legations wished to despatch a messenger, but the