Just before Dave gained the parapet some of his sturdiest Jackies, by
seizing a score of the yellow scoundrels and hurling them bodily over
the wall on the heads of their countrymen below, had succeeded in
clearing some elbow room in which to fight.
The machine gun at this point had ceased sputtering, for its server had
been forced back in the rush.
Dave’s sword flew in straight up and down cuts as he hurled himself
among the furies who fought to drive him back. Thrice he parried spear
thrusts that otherwise would have spitted him.
Rallying around him the strongest of his fighting men, Ensign Darrin
drove the yellow men back for an instant.
“Tune up the machine gun,” Dave bellowed. “We must rake this multitude
again if we would have a single chance to win.”
By signs, since he could not make himself heard many yards away, Darrin
passed the word down the line for sailors and marines to fill the
magazines of their rifles and fire into the Chinese, who were making an
effort to raise new ladders against the wall.
But Ensign Dave glancing along his thin, exhausted line to see if many
of them were hurt, muttered to himself:
“The next rush ought to sweep us down into the compound. Then for the
magazine, and—the Big Noise!”
“Mr. Darrin,” bawled a missionary from below, “your sailor, Sampson,
ordered me to come to you to say that the governor is nearly dead with
terror over his position. Sin Foo promises that if the governor be
brought up here, his excellency will order and persuade the rabble to
cease fighting and withdraw.”
“Do you believe that, at this late stage, the governor could influence
these thousands of mad men?” Dave demanded.
“It is more than possible,” replied the missionary.
“Tell Sampson, if you please, to bring his excellency up here. If the
governor makes one false move, back he goes to the top of the magazine,
without any further chance to redeem himself from going up with the
rest of us in the Big Noise. Please tell Sampson to rush the governor
here.”
“And shall I come back, that I may know just what his excellency says
to the rabble?” suggested the missionary, who, like most of the others
of his band, spoke the language of China.
“Be sure to come back, if you please,” Dave begged.
Again swarms of ladders were rushed to the walls. Pigtailed heads were
mixed with short-haired Chinese heads, for, though the republic desired
all Chinamen to lop off the pigtails of the monarchial days, only a
portion of the Chinese men have done so.
At times the swarms coming up the ladders pressed so close that sailors
and marines fought them with the butts of their rifles and with fists,
even. The superior athletic physique of the Anglo-Saxon bore up before
the rushes of the Chinamen with seemingly tireless energy. Had the top
of the rampart been broader the Chinese must have carried all before
them, but in the narrowness of the top of the wall the sailors had the
advantage.
Once more ladders had been tipped over, the last of the yellow men
hurled to the ground below, and again the machine guns and the infantry
rifles poured their shots into the thousands below.
Now up came Sampson, carrying in his arms a collapsed form that was the
Governor of Nu-ping.
“Stand up, confound you!” adjured Seaman Sampson, planting the governor
on his feet and seizing him by the collar. “Stand up!”
The greenness of the governor’s yellow face was more ghastly than ever.
He shivered as a few stray shots whistled uncomfortably close to his
ears.
The rays of four pocket electric lights were turned upon him by as many
sailors equipped with these articles. His excellency stood in the spot
light, a very sorry-looking object.
Soldiers and civil officials are chosen from two different classes in
China. Often these civil officials, when put to the test, prove to be
timorous indeed.
“Tell him to secure silence and make his speech,” Dave requested of the
missionary.
His excellency’s arms waved like a spectre’s as he made gestures
appealing for silence. Within thirty seconds the signs of his success
with his own people began to appear.
Gradually motion stopped in the multitude. Some of the more lowly among
the Chinese fighters, out beyond the thick of the rabble, even fell
upon their knees.
The peril seemingly passed, the governor became steadier. He was a
ruler speaking to obedient masses—or at least so it appeared.
Then, in a voice husky at first, but gradually gaining in strength, his
excellency began to speak to his subjects, for such they really were.
As his speech continued his voice became louder and more authoritative.
Dave glanced inquiringly at the missionary, who nodded back as much as
to say that the governor was making a speech along right lines. Indeed,
the speech must have had signal effect, for low murmurs ran in all
directions through the lately fighting rabble, and by degrees the last
efforts at fighting died out on all sides of the compound.
“As soon as the right moment comes,” whispered Dave, “please tell him
to order all the people a mile away from this part of the city.”
In an undertone the missionary repeated in Chinese. Then, after a few
moments, the movement backward began. A visible tremor of rearward
motion passed through the throngs.
In silence the Chinese had heard the closing words of their governor,
and now no crowd of thousands could have been more noiseless.
“Take his excellency below again,” Dave commanded Sampson. “He is too
valuable an asset to lose just yet. Put him on top of the powder
magazine. Our missionary friends will assure his excellency that he is
in not the least danger unless the attack is begun again.”
Having seen these orders carried out, Ensign Darrin hurried back to the
circle of lanterns.
“Ladies, I am glad to be able to say that I think our danger is nearly
over,” he announced. “We have a few more wounded to bring down from the
walls. After these men have had attention I think we shall be ready to
take up the march to the river, and soon after that I believe that you
will all be safe on board the ‘Castoga.’ Don’t rub your eyes or pinch
yourselves to see if it all be true. I believe the bad dream is ended.”
Then Dave sought out Sin Foo and “Burnt-face.”
“Come with me to the governor,” he directed, for, while the speech from
the rampart was being made, these two underlings had somehow managed to
slip away from their perilous place on top of the magazine.
“You are not going to offer us violence, are you?” asked Sin Foo
fearfully.
“Not unless you do something to merit it,” was Darrin’s response. “I
have other uses in view for you.”
Securing the services of the same missionary, Dave directed him to ask
the governor if he would trust Sin Foo and “Burnt-face” to go out into
the city and carry to the people his excellency’s will that no attack
be made upon the Americans when they started for the river front.
The governor replied that his two secretaries were the very ones to
carry his orders to his people.
“So that fellow is a secretary to the governor, also?” asked Darrin,
pointing to “Burnt-face.”
“He is the governor’s secretary,” replied the missionary. “Sin Foo is
the under secretary, who, that he might deal with Englishmen and
Americans, was educated in England.”
“Warn the governor that if his secretaries play him false, and we are
attacked, then his excellency will surely lose his life,” Dave
requested.
“His excellency is satisfied that his secretaries will serve him
faithfully, and keep his life secure,” the missionary declared.
The governor himself spoke to “Burnt-face” and Sin Foo, after which
both bowed low.
“Now, you two may turn yourselves out into the street,” Dave announced.
“We will let you pass through the gates. See to it that you circulate
well, and that you impress upon the people their governor’s wishes.
Otherwise, his excellency will sail sky-high on a keg of powder—you may
be sure of that!”
To Ensign Dave’s intense amazement, both “Burnt-face” and Sin Foo bowed
very low before him. Next, they threw themselves upon their knees
before the governor, who addressed them briefly, but earnestly.
When the secretaries rose Dave called a petty officer, to take them to
the gate and to vouch for their right to pass out.
In the meantime the wounded were being attended. Nearly all of the
unhurt defenders still remained upon the ramparts, though the great
open spaces below were devoid of any signs of a hostile populace.
“I wonder if his excellency would like to change his shoes before
starting,” Dave suggested to Bishop Whitlock, as he glanced down at the
governor’s dainty embroidered silken footgear.
“Are you going to take the governor with us?” asked the Bishop.
“He must go with us to the river front, and must remain there until all
of our party is safe,” Darrin answered.
“But you really mustn’t make him walk,” objected the Bishop. “If you
did, it would be such an affront as the people of Nu-ping would never
forgive in foreigners. There are several sedan chairs in the yamen, and
there are still enough attendants left to bear it. Permit me, Mr.
Darrin, to see to the matter of the governor’s sedan.”
“I shall be deeply grateful, sir, if you will,” was Dave’s answer.
In less than five minutes the chair was ready, resting on the shoulders
of eight husky coolies.
Ten minutes later the gates were thrown open. The defenders, hastily
recalled from the ramparts, had formed.
First in the line were the marines, with a machine gun. Then followed a
detachment of sailors. Danny Grin took command of the advance guard.
Behind this were the wounded, some of whom hobbled slowly and
painfully, as there was no conveyance except for those who had been
badly hurt.
After the wounded came the women, in a body, and, behind them, the
governor in his sedan chair.
There followed the missionaries, armed and unarmed, and the other male
American residents of Nu-ping. Finally marched the rest of the seamen
with Pembroke as their prisoner, and Dave commanded at this point.
Outside all was now as still as though in a city of the dead.
Was it safe to risk the march, or were they soon to run into some
villainous trap prepared by the ingenuity of the Chinese?
“Forward, march!” Ensign Darrin sent the order down the line.