A Tale of Red Pekin

by Lillian Elizabeth Roy

  CHAPTER VII.

  A PAINFUL DISCOVERY.

  Several days passed by. One gets accustomed to everything, and we weregetting used to the big fires at night and all the mysterious warningswe had had, and I was getting very tired of not being able to run aboutas in the old days before we came to Pekin. It was a lovely morning,and I made up my mind to go round and see my friend, Mrs. Ross. I wasallowed to go and see Mrs. Ross, but when there I was never supposed tobe out of her sight. Father was busy when I left, so I did not see him,but Phoebe, our old servant, followed me with a great many injunctionsand warnings--at which, I am sorry to say, I only laughed. The sunshineseemed to intoxicate me--I revelled in it--I could no longer feel anyfear; afterwards I thought I must have been mad that morning. I turnedround in the middle of my flight down the path which led to the house inwhich Captain and Mrs. Ross lived.

  "Phoebe," I cried, shaking back my curls, which, somehow, always wouldcome tumbling about my face, "Phoebe, you may depend upon it the Chineseare not nearly so black as they're painted; anyway, black or yellow, orwhatever they are, it's a lovely day, and I'm going to enjoy myself."

  "And what am I to tell your pa, Miss Nina?"

  "Oh, tell him anything you like--why, tell him the truth to besure--that I've gone to spend the morning with Mrs. Ross."

  "Miss Nina, I don't like the looks of you this morning. When your eyesare as if there was little imps a-dancing in 'em, then I looks out forsqualls."

  "Thank you, Phoebe," I said, laughing and making her a mocking curtsey."My eyes feel very flattered, I can assure you."

  "Oh, they're well enough, and bright enough," she replied, grudgingly,"but I should like to see a bit more soberness about them; why, when Iwas your age, miss, I was married. Mr. Larkins--

  "Poor man," I ejaculated under my breath.

  Phoebe did not hear; she was lost in reminiscences of the past.

  "Poor, dear Mr. Larkins, he were took quite sudden like; his mother diedof heart complaint, and yet I never thought to say to Larkins, 'Whoknows, my dear, but you might be took the same yourself, one day.'"

  "I should think not, Phoebe; it would have made poor Mr. Larkins veryuncomfortable if you had. I daresay," I added, under my breath, "he wasnone too happy as it was," but, like all deaf people, the very thing Idid not mean her to hear she heard at once, and turned upon me angrily.

  "Not happy, miss! As happy as the day was long was Mr. Larkins, and adeal happier if the days be these here days in China."

  "Oh, Phoebe, the day is bright enough; there is nothing wrong withthat."

  "The day is all right for them as wasn't kept awake all night by thosebloodthirsty villains."

  "I heard nothing, Phoebe; I was asleep."

  "It's all very well for them as can sleep; but, there, you're only achild, after all."

  "Why, Phoebe, you said a minute ago that I was old enough to bemarried," and with this parting shot I ran away.

  Poor old Phoebe; our troubles pressed sore upon her. I had never seenher so put out before. She had been in our family for forty years, andwas, therefore, privileged to be very disagreeable sometimes. As I randown the path I met Mr. Crawford; he saluted, hesitated, and finallystopped short.

  "Whither away, Miss Nina?"

  He had such a kind, honest face, one of those you feel instinctively youcan trust.

  "I am going to see Mrs. Ross."

  "All by yourself? Pardon me, does the Colonel know of your intention?"

  "Oh, yes--that is, I don't know; father was out when I left, but Phoebesaw me go, and I had to listen to lectures yards long. I hope," Iadded, saucily, "that I shall not have to listen to any more."

  His boyish face had grown quite grave, his honest eyes had a look ofapprehension in them, but he spoke lightly.

  "I see you are a very determined young lady, but perhaps you will allowme to accompany you so far; then, when I have seen you safe in Mrs.Ross's hands, I can make my report to the Colonel and set his mind atrest."

  "Oh, you can come if you like," I replied, grandly. I was accustomed tohave a great deal of attention; indeed, I could not have received muchmore had I been a little princess. "One would think I was the mostprecious thing in the world."

  "Well, are you not?" he asked, gravely.

  "It depends what precious means," I replied, sapiently. "If it meansvery good, I am afraid I am not that--at least, not half so good asCicely."

  "Who is Cicely?"

  "Cicely St. John; she is my cousin; she is altogether lovely," I cried,with enthusiasm, "and so is Uncle Paul; he is a missionary out here atChen-si."

  "A missionary--and at Chen-si--then God help him!"

  He said the last under his breath, but I heard him.

  "Oh, Mr. Crawford," I cried, earnestly, for I love Uncle Paul dearly,"you do not think he is in danger?"

  "I should think he probably left, Miss Nina, before the troubles began,and you know," reassuringly, "'Ill news flies apace,' so that, as youhave heard nothing to the contrary, you may take it for granted he isall right."

  We had got to the end of our walk now, but he opened the gate for me,and still lingered.

  "I want to know that you are quite safe," he said, smiling. "You seewhat a gaoler I am. Ah, there is Mrs. Ross."

  I ran to her and kissed her joyfully.

  "Nina, darling, how delightful; come to spend a long day with me, Ihope?"

  "I should like to," I replied, "if Mr. Crawford will let father know."

  "Your obedient slave, Miss Nina; I will be sure to acquaint the Colonel,and now I must be going."

  "Won't you come in, Mr. Crawford?" said Mrs. Ross.

  "I fear I cannot," he replied. "I have to report myself atheadquarters. I was on guard last night."

  "Any fresh news?" asked Mrs. Ross.

  "Nothing but the usual story of the last few days. They have been firinga lot more houses, and the visions and apparitions are as numerous asever."

  "And the Red Hand?" asked Mrs. Ross, shuddering.

  "Oh, we have got quite accustomed to it by this time," he replied.

  He spoke lightly to reassure us, but it was easy to detect a vein ofapprehensiveness behind his light tone.

  Mrs. Ross looked pensive, and this pensive look added to her beauty andmade her entrancing.

  "Well, Nina," she said, when we were alone, "what would you like to dothis morning?"

  "Anything you like, darling," I replied, eagerly. "I am so tired ofdoing nothing and sitting in all day. I know what I should like," Icried, excitedly; "I should like to go into the park."

  "The park?" said Mrs. Ross, turning her liquid gaze to the window."Yes, it looks inviting this morning. I wonder if we could. I fearGeorge would not like it--he can't bear me to leave the house; but,really, everything seems very quiet this morning, I don't see why weshouldn't go a little way. One does get so tired, as you say, ofsitting in the house. It seems strange," she added, smiling, "the parkbeing such an excitement to us. It was positively none when we could goany day, but 'Circumstances alter cases,' to quote a very trite proverb,and I fear you and I, Nina, are very human, and share the universallonging for what is out of reach."

  "Yes. Do you know," I replied, laughing, "father never will forbid meanything, because he says he knows I should want to do it immediately?"

  "What a character you are giving yourself," smiling. "At any rate youare true; and, if you loved, you would be easily guided."

  "Yes, that is it," I cried. "I would do anything for love's sake; Ilove father, and so I would not hurt him for the world; his wishes aremy law."

  "Do you know," said Mrs. Ross, turning her lovely eyes on me with a newexpression in their depths, "without meaning it, you have exactlydescribed the relationship which exists between the renewed soul and theFather? I shall never forget that sermon your uncle preached on thatsubject. 'And because ye are sons, God has sent forth the Spirit of HisSon into your hearts, cr
ying, Abba, Father.' I don't know what makes metell you this, but I have never felt the same since that day."

  "No one ever does feel the same after meeting Uncle Paul; but the worstof it is I get so naughty again when I am away from him."

  "So very, very naughty," she said, playfully, "and this is one of yourwicked deeds I fear, and I am aiding and abetting you."

  "You darling," I said, fondly, locking my arms in hers, "I don't knowwhat I should have done in this place without you; and what a nicemorning this is, and how pleasant it is here under the trees."

  "Yes, but we had better keep the house in view; you see I have thecaution which comes with age!"

  And so we strolled on under the trees, and forgot our troubles for oneshort morning. The air seemed deliciously sweet and fresh, though, afew days later, it grew unbearably hot. We were just thinking ofreturning to the house when in the distance I saw a curious object onthe ground; it lay under the trees about 200 yards away, and nothingwould content me but that I must go and find out what it was. In vainMrs. Ross expostulated, and pointed out the danger of going so far andgetting out of touch with the houses; the spirit of mischief promptedme, and I ran away laughing. Lilian followed, entreating me to stop,but, I am sorry to say, the more excited she grew the more I laughed andthe faster I ran--on and on, until I got quite close to the object whichhad excited my curiosity. Judge of my horror when, on looking down, Ifound it was one of our own soldiers lying there, dead; he had evidentlybeen murdered by the Boxers.

  I felt sobered in a moment. The beauty of the day had gone, and the sunseemed cruel now, as it blazed pitilessly down on the man's white,upturned face. I recognized him at once, for he had been for years inmy father's regiment, and was a great favourite with us all.

  And now he lay there in the bright sunshine, dead. I knelt by his side,quite forgetting the danger we were in, until Lilian Ross came up andalmost dragged me away.

  "Nina," she said, "you must be mad; come back with me this instant. Weare out of sight of home, and any moment we may be stopped."

  I rose sobbing, and quite subdued now, prepared to follow her quietly,feeling indifferent to everything. It was too late. As we retraced oursteps, we heard wild shouting and cries, that awful cry that woke thestillness of the night--"Kill, kill."

  Lilian turned as white as snow. I realized that it was through myrashness; we were probably doomed to a cruel death. I felt it keenly,because I saw that I had sacrificed Lilian as well as myself, but shenever reproached me.

  "Nina," she whispered, hurriedly, "have you got your satchet with you?"

  The fear in her lovely eyes was reflected, I know, in mine.

  "Yes," I said, fumbling with my hand in the bosom of my dress, "it ishere."

  "That is right, we may need it. I do not fear death, not since I metMr. St. John; but torture--" and she shuddered.

  "Oh, Lilian, and I have brought you to this. I shall never forgivemyself--never."

  "You did not mean it, darling."

  "No, but it comes to the same thing."

  "It may be possible for us to escape, even now; let us take this turn,Nina, it will lead us round by the other entrance."

  The horrid sounds were coming nearer--we turned to flee, but it was toolate. They caught a glimpse of us as we disappeared, and with wild,horrible cries they came rushing after us. A sensation of cruelfear--the knowledge that certain death stared us in the face--a quickreview, as in a mirror, of all my past life--an agonized prayer forhelp, a sickening sensation of pain--and then a blank. And then----