“Father, save me from this hour.”
“Father, glorify Thy Name.”
THE few remaining hours that were left to us before the death sentence was to be executed were, so far as our outward circumstances went, nothing but unrest. Ma Lao-ie took up his quarters in our room, and with another—an evil man, his close companion—spread his bedding on our k’ang. Far into the night, many were coming and going, all insolence and mockery as the event of the morrow was freely and jestingly discussed before us. Among them all, none was more offensively ribald than Ma himself.
Our persons and effects were now subjected to close scrutiny and search. The Lao-ie mounted the k’ang, and with his own hands overhauled each article in turn. At last he came upon what he wanted—silver. With the exultant greed of a miser he clutched the packet and said, “You foreign devils will have to make this up to two hundred tels before we have done with you. Where’s the rest?” Seeing that nothing was to be gained by remonstrance, and knowing that resistance (even had it been possible) was not after the meekness of our Master Christ, Who, when He suffered, threatened not, we quietly surrendered our little store, at the same time rebuking the sin.
When all was in his hands, scales were called for and the weight verified. I see him now—how vividly!—let seated at the table, surrounded by some half-dozen sycophants, intent on the adjustment of the weight to the beam. The lamp had been lifted from its niche to the table, that the figures might be accurately read; and as the taper lit up the sordid features of the bending group, the dirt-begrimed and cobwebbed room looked, what in fact it was, a veritable den of thieves. It was as impressive a spectacle of human depravity as could well be seen. I understood then, as never before, how the love of money can be said to be “the root of all evil.” Every unholy passion lurked in the lust depicted in their faces. There was no sin those men would not commit to possess the coveted thing. They were possessed by it; it was their life. Their soul was in it, and they would sell their soul to have it.
When the weight was told, it was declared at so much. Turning to us, Ma said, “There is such and such a deficiency. Come, bring out the rest of your money, or it will be the worse for you.” We replied that he had our all; that he had already made a thorough search himself, but that if he doubted our word, he was free to look again. Upon this he and his companions searched our persons; but finding nothing more in the way of sycee, he significantly said, “Very well, if you can’t make it up in money you will have to make it up in kind”; and forthwith they hilariously fell to appropriating whatever their heart coveted amongst our goods on the k’ang. That done, Ma turned to us again: “This is not enough; it will not nearly meet the deficiency. What else have you got? Quick, give it up!” His manner was insolent and abusive; and seeing that he was about to search our persons again, we gave up the last possessions we had—our watches, which were secreted in an inner pocket. These, and my pocket-knife, were evidently considered a great find, and were turned over and over with every mark of satisfaction. But all to no purpose.
“Still not enough,” he said; “what we have here will not even bring the amount up to a hundred and fifty ounces. In default of payment, your effects in the litters are forfeit also.” No need to be told that. We guessed it long before. It was only a Chinese-y attempt at “saving their face” over a shameless piece of wholesale robbery, determined upon from the beginning.
Having thus justified themselves in their wickedness, they lay down beside us, not to sleep, but to regale themselves with opium, and to gloat over their spoil. I see the Lao-ie still, in the haze of the smoke, fondling the large fifty-ounce “shoe” of silver, as ever and anon he turned it to the light of his opium lamp and examined the marks of its purity. And so with each article in turn.
I suppose it must have been about three o’clock a.m., when a man with a large yamen lantern came in, evidently to receive instructions. Almost immediately after he had withdrawn the deep boom of a gong broke out upon the stillness, and continued at intervals until it was light.
For all this the grace of God sufficed us. Notwithstanding the intense heat, the vermin, and the opium fumes, my dear wife was given a spell of quiet sleep, for which I could not sufficiently thank the gracious Giver. For the rest we spoke but little, and that only in whispers, that we might not rouse the suspicions of our captors. But as we communed with our own heart upon our bed, in the near prospect of a violent death, we each experienced the deep peace of the words, “I know Whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed unto Him.”
And now, with the summons of the gong, though it was yet dark, the stir of rousing life began to make itself heard without. Every now and again the door would open and two or three would look in, leer at us, hand. Then, as the gray of early dawn appeared, the inn yard began to fill; and with the broadening daylight the whole place was alive with thronging crowds.
For some two hours longer we were kept in durance vile, awaiting the end. By the help of God, we were enabled courteously to answer the many questions with which we were plied, and patiently to take the cruel revilings of the many who watched us. Among the deep consolations of those bitter hours, not least was the joy of being allowed, in the compassion of Christ, to bless those that cursed us, and to pray for them that despitefully used us. The fact that we did so was remarked upon by our enemies not once nor twice in the course of our many weeks’ captivity; and the contrast with what they themselves were accustomed to under similar circumstances made its own impression. They would be heard to remark aside, “These people cannot be so bad, after all; for while our mouths are full of cursing and bitterness, theirs are only full of kindness and good words. They never revile us back again: truly, they heap to themselves great merit against the life to come.”
Meanwhile, Ma Lao-ie was busily occupied without. The turbulent hubbub seemed to subside in presence of an expected end: and the significant hush told us that the last preparations were being made. With no audible word or outward sign to indicate it, my wife and I took the secret last farewell of each other. The glory of which she whispered to me was even now in her face; and the tender firmness of her hand’s pressure told me how completely she was lifted above the fear of death. Only her eyes moistened when she kissed her little son good-bye—that was all.
We now engaged unitedly in prayer, in which I commended each one into the hands of our Father, in prospect of the death we were about to die. But even as I prayed, the petition seemed forced to my lips, “If it is not Thy will that we should die at this time, then, O our God, for the glory of Thy great Name bring their counsel to naught and weaken their arm.”
Almost immediately afterward the Lao-ie entered with his following, and in peremptory tones ordered us out to the litters. I led the way with my little boy, followed immediately by my dear wife, leading baby Hope. But Ma’s impatience could no longer brook restraint, and brutally broke bounds. Seizing Miss Gates by the hair, he dragged her from the k’ang, and thrust her to the door with a blow from his clenched fist.
We were scarcely allowed time to seat ourselves before the signal to move on was given. Our boys were dragged back and not permitted to accompany us. So far as I was able to see the three litters started together, that occupied by my dear wife and little girl following close behind mine: for which I thanked God, as the thought that possibly we should be divided in the article of death was the one thing that had burdened me.
As we passed out of the courtyard into the street, what a sight met our gaze! The roadway for the first hundred yards was held by Boxer guards, armed with sword and spear, and brave in Boxer red: while on either side, as far as the eye could see, was massed in dense formation a countless multitude, eagerly expectant, and armed (apparently, to a man) with some rude implement or other.
No sooner had we cleared the inn gate than the mob closed in upon us. Then we were halted, and they formed themselves into a procession, headed by Ma Lao-ie. A young man with a large gong stationed himself beside my litter. When all was ready marshalled, at a signal from the Lao-ie the procession moved forward to the measured beat of the gong.
I could only attach one meaning to all this. It was a sacrificial procession: and our murder was to be, viewed in the light of an offering to the gods. The appeal, therefore (very subtly), was to the strongest of human passions—the religious—in order to make the issue doubly sure.
As we swung on in the midst of the surging mob to the place of sacrifice, it was only to prove afresh the power of Him, on Whom our mind was stayed, to keep in perfect peace. To the natural man, the situation was one calculated to inspire the utmost terror; but I bear record that the only dread I felt, so far as my own lot was concerned, was that suggested by the barbarous implements carried by the mob. I am telling the simple truth when I say that at the sight of the keen blades and pointed spearheads of the Boxer soldiery, I fervently thanked God; for they argued at least a speedy dispatch. A desperate set of men hung on to the poles of the litter. I can see the man who was next me even now, stripped to the waist, his queue lashed round his head ready for action, a great stone in his right hand, and a bowie knife in his left.
I longed to know how it fared with my loved ones behind, and also with Miss Gates; and with a great effort, amid the lurching’s of the litter, I contrived to turn and tear a tiny hole with my fingers in the straw matting at my back, just large enough to peep through. Oh, the sight! The way behind was a billowing sea of heads and weapons; and the frail litters, oscillating dangerously from the pressure, looked like two cockleshells tossing on the crest of foaming waves.
I was thankful to see that their occupants were still within; though Miss Gates was so far behind that I could only make out the bare fact that she was there. My precious wife, with wee darling Hope, was sitting well forward, so that I could see every feature perfectly. Her arm encircled the shrinking little one, and she was talking gently to her; and as she talked, it was wonderful to see how her face reflected its own restful calm in the pale features of her baby girl. Ever and again she would gaze out upon the wild scene before her, as seeing not that, but Him Who is invisible; for a heavenly smile was on her lips, and her countenance shone with a light that was not of this world. I saw her face, literally, as it had been the face of an angel. It was, for me, a vision the beauty of which will never fade—a glimpse of heaven open, amid the sights and sounds of hell. My soul could only magnify the Lord as I saw how absolutely, in His weak handmaiden, death was swallowed up in victory, through the power of the indwelling Christ, Who was her Life.
We had traversed about two-thirds of the long main street when an extraordinary commotion ensued. The Lao-ie dashed at my leader’s head, and tearing at his mouth forced a halt. Then, in orthodox Chinese style, he raged and cursed, and denounced the people of the place for their “peaceableness,” and for having “ruined the whole business.” What this could mean I was at a loss to understand at the time: but evidently the preconcerted signal for attack had not been responded to. In all probability the Lao-ie’s orders were that, at a given spot, and when the gong ceased to sound, they were to fall upon us. The spot had been reached! the gong had ceased to sound—that, at least, was certain; and the people had failed to answer the call! Yes—had we not definitely prayed before leaving the inn, that God would bring their counsel to naught? It was a remarkable incident—the very last that one would have thought could occur in such circumstances; and I who witnessed it and realized, as no one else can, the absolute hopelessness of the situation from the human standpoint, testify that it was nothing else than the work of Him Who had heard that prayer, and taken the wise in their own craftiness.
The Lao-ie’s rage yielded at last to the persuasive vehemence of those about him—the men who had witnessed against us—as they urged him to have us taken to the boundary of the town, where they would themselves finish the matter to his satisfaction. Whereupon the procession moved forward, and we were borne rapidly on without the gate.
We were well outside, when Ma thrust his head into my litter, and said, “Throw out your bed-bag—quick!” This was easier said than done: for not merely was it a heavy and awkward article in itself, but it formed our seat, and how to dislodge it while on it was a problem. However, the Lao-ie appreciated the difficulty as much as I did, and without further ado set to work to solve it with his own hands. My cooperation saved him a good deal of trouble—and us, too; for, under God, it doubtless saved our lives. Heavily the unwieldy bulk lumped over the side, almost dragging both us and the whole structure with it; but the litter righted like a boat relieved of ballast, and I found myself, with my little boy, lurched on to the sharp edges of the boxes in the ropework below.
The disappearance of the bed-bag and its contents was followed forthwith by the temporary disappearance of those immediately about us. It was as a sop to ravenous wolves; and while they tarried to fight over the spoil, we were hurried on to the boundary. Their place, however, was quickly taken by others, as I new from the wild scrimmage going on underneath, and from the fact that we were sinking uncomfortably lower into the netting. With an effort I hoisted myself on to the cross-pole, taking Hedley on my knee; but our proximity to his hind-quarters was too unpleasantly close to be relished by the “seng-k’eo,” who began kicking and plunging in a most unsettling way.
It was now clear to me that the end had come. To remain longer in the litter was an impossibility, tiniest: we committed ourselves to the ropework; and to do this only meant eventual death in the entanglement of its meshes. So, infinitely preferring to die outside rather than in, I took Hedley under my arm, and lifting my heart to God jumped to the ground.
The scene that now passed before my eyes baffles description. Shut in as one had been in a vehicle closed on three sides, it had been impossible until now to take in the whole situation. It would seem that the Lao-ie’s demand for my bed-bag had been the signal for a general mêlée. The mob that had flocked out after us set upon the three litters simultaneously, and was soon broken up into squads of fighting demons, mad for plunder. Amid fiendish shouts they fought for the spoil. I had not been a moment too soon in leaving the litter; for scarcely had my feet touched the ground before it was overborne, crumpled up, and demolished.
And now I looked anxiously for the other two litters. Not that I expected to see any one of their occupants alive, any more than I expected to be left alive myself. This was death, certain death, for us all: it was only a question of moments. But it was the natural and the uppermost thought in my heart—Where are they? Are we still together? Is it possible for me to know whether they have been already called home?
Miss Gates’ litter was nowhere to be seen, and I concluded that she was dead. But there, parallel with mine, about twenty yards away, was my wife’s; and between her and me the howling, fighting mob, surrounding and besetting her on every side. Looking back over the whole period of my sufferings, deep as were the waters of anguish that I passed through before and since, I can think of nothing that touched the agony of those moments. If ever a sword pierced through my soul, it did then. I had to be a helpless spectator of what I knew could only be the taking of the life of my nearest and dearest. I saw the litter heave over and fall heavily to the ground, the mules stampeding. I saw it buried the next moment under a seething, struggling mass of devilish humanity. I saw the knives with which they slashed at the cordage and framework; and I called aloud upon God to have mercy upon my precious wife and child, and to shorten their sufferings. Death was easy to me now, and I was even thanking God that it was as near as it was—when, as I looked, out from the midst of that murderous mass crept the form of my beloved Flora, and sweet Hope was with her! I looked upon them both as one might have looked upon Lazarus coming forth from the grave. The miracle was not less astounding now than then. It was nothing else than resurrection. As Abraham received his beloved from the dead, so also (I speak with deepest reverence) did I receive mine. Oh, how I sprang forward to meet her! Her hair was disheveled, and her face ashy white: but she was as calm as when I saw her through the hole in the litter. Both mother and child had come out unscathed. There were bruises and torn clothing, but not a wound, not a scratch; and baby Hope was as calm as her mother. Not only so, but to complete the marvel, Miss Gates was with them, unhurt and calm as they!
It is impossible to convey to the reader’s mind any adequate idea of the miraculous nature of their deliverance (for Miss Gates’ experience was, I believe, the counterpart of my wife’s). How it came to pass that the frail structure did not collapse under the impact of that great human mass hurling itself upon it; how it was that the occupants were not crushed by the weight under which they lay buried; how it happened that not a knife-blade came near them as their assailants struck at the single mat of straw which formed their only protection; or how it was possible for them to break free from the narrow confines of their prison, and to find a way pf escape, uninjured, through the murderous mob about them—these are questions the answer to which can be found alone in the Word of God, “The Angel of His presence saved them.”
I cannot pretend to describe the feelings with which we stood once more together. We drew aside to a clear spot just off the roadway, and lifted our hearts in praise and thanksgiving to Him Who alone doeth great wonders. It seemed to me the earnest of deliverance even to the end; and together we rejoiced over so signal a fulfillment of the promise given when we started, “I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord.”
There was nothing, however, in our actual circumstances to suggest that we had escaped, or could eventually escape, the death to which we had been definitely sentenced. “We walk by faith, not by sight;” and faith means looking at the things that are not seen—God’s promise, power and faithfulness—and giving glory to God, just at the very time when the things that are seen present to the eye of the natural man only an outlook of sheer impossibility. Thus we learned that the next thing before us needed a fresh act of faith. There was never a moment during those dark weeks when we did not need to be looking away from the hopeless circumstances of ever threatening death to Christ, the Resurrection and the Life; and to account that “God is able to raise up, even from the dead.” There were times when my feet had well-nigh slipped, and when, as I let my eye rest on the absolute desperateness of the situation, I almost found myself limiting the Holy One and asking the dishonoring question, “Can God?” But I praise the mercy which lifted me up, and enabled me to repel the blasphemy, looking away unto Jesus, the Author and Finisher of faith. So now we stood quietly waiting to see what God would do next—in His hand, for death or life.
When once the litters were out up, it did not take long to dispose of their contents. As soon as one and another possessed themselves of what they wanted or could lay hands on, they made off with their ill-gotten gains. To our amazement, they were presently hurrying in all directions, as if in flight; and we were left standing alone! Was it the breath of God scattering them? Or had they, like one of old, seen the form of Another, like unto the Son of God, standing with us? In a few minutes, there was nothing left of the great throng that had carried us out to death, save a few scattered groups in threes and fours watching us at a distance.
Among those who made off was the redoubtable Ma. Just at the time that I was standing with my little boy, expecting to be cut down every moment, he dashed suddenly upon me from amongst the crowd, his face livid with passion, and, dealing me a staggering blow, ordered me to show him whether I had yet any secret possessions upon my person. I quietly opened my tunic, when he caught sight of a small pocket attached to my girdle, in which I carried my Consular passport. Thrusting in his hand, he drew forth the document. One glance at the heading sufficed to show him its purport, and with a malicious gleam he tore it to pieces before my eyes. Then, ordering me to give up the pouch as it was, he took it and its emptiness and was gone. And that was the last I saw of Ma Lao-ie.
Thus miraculously ended one of the most critical episodes of that critical period. Not the least remarkable fact about it was that the Boxer soldiery never came near us. I saw nothing to indicate that they even followed us beyond the gate. They may or may not have done so; but I have no recollection of seeing one of them among the rabble that set on us. When one considers that the extermination of the foreign devil was the express object of their organization, and that not only were we actually in their hands, but that they were there avowedly to do the work of death in common with the rest, the fact is inexplicable on any other supposition than that of Divine interference and restraint. We who were the individuals concerned, and knew all that the situation meant of the terrors of death and the hopelessness of escape as none other can know, testify that, from first to last, it was a series of miracles. And we read in it the completed answer to the prayer we offered unitedly before leaving the inn, “If it is not Thy will that we should die at this time, then, O our God, for the glory of Thy great Name bring their counsel to naught and weaken their arm!” Had He not done both these things? “Associate yourselves, O ye people, and ye shall be broken in pieces; take counsel together, and it shall come to naught; for God is with us.”