'The Russians have given signal proof of their gallantry, but Arthur will be taken all the same. Therefore, to avoid useless loss of life and any possible violence, murder or looting by Japanese troops fighting their way into the town, which it will be difficult at once to prevent, His Highness the Emperor of Japan suggests a discussion of negotiations for the surrender of the Fortress.'
A Council of War was at once summoned, at which Stössel suggested that no answer should be given, as the proposal that the Fortress should capitulate was a piece of insolence. Smirnoff expostulated, explaining that the elementary rules of military etiquette required that a reply should be sent. Stössel then said:
'Well, if an answer must go, let us send a blank piece of paper or else merely write a joke on it.'
Smirnoff insisted that an answer, and a polite one, should be sent, and he drafted one which was eventually signed by both Stössel and himself:
'The honour and dignity of Russia do not allow of overtures of any sort being made for a surrender.'
The morning of the 17th was very unpleasant, with fog, sleet, and mud. The town was already being bombarded, and the shells could be heard bursting in the harbour. With General Smirnoff's permission, I accompanied the flag-of-truce party taking out the reply: it consisted of Captain Golovan, an officer of the General Staff, and Lieutenant Mackalinsky, of the Fortress Staff. As we went out the passers-by gazed at us with curiosity and wonder, many of them thinking probably this was the end of Arthur. At last we reached the fortifications near the cemetery; on this being reported to the Commandant, he at once ordered the guns to cease fire: so that exactly at nine o'clock we were able to move on. I was told to ride in front with the flag, with one of the mounted scouts, the rest of the party and escort following a short distance behind. We passed our firing-line and piquets and went on some distance, but seeing nothing of the Japanese, I began to get suspicious, for I could not forget how they had fired on our Red Cross at Green Hills; perhaps they were now lying in the kiaoling on either side of us ready to pour in a volley. It was jumpy work.
'Sir, sir, there they are!' whispered the man riding beside me. I looked ahead, but could see nothing. At last, however, I noticed four Japanese dressed in khaki behind a sharp bend in the road on a small pass. They were difficult to distinguish from their surroundings, while we, in our uniform, were very conspicuous. Having approached to within fifty yards, we heard in Russian—
'Halt!'
We stopped.
'Advance one!'