KINCHOW—ARRESTED BY CHINESE SOLDIERS—CAPTURE OF THE CITY
As I have said, my heart sank as the sergeant came up roughly and prepared to strip me again. Such an indignity I was unable to resist, and when the man indicated a spot apart where my costume could be conveniently removed if needful, my anger rose, and I made some remarks, which, as a fancy display of Chinese, may have given rise to curiosity, but as a means of release were void of effect. As I continued to address the "sergeant," he stood still, and gazed at me in as much surprise as a Manchu soldier usually exhibits. Seeing this, my anger and expostulations grew more fierce. I waved my arms, gesticulated, performed sleight-of-hand movements with my fingers, and in fact exhibited such manifest tokens of ability to take a "first-class" at Earlswood (England), that the man retreated to make inquiry respecting me, and I breathed again.
What was my late companion doing all this time? He had apparently deserted me, and this after all my lavish—in a Chinese sense—expenditure of cash. Again my bad feelings predominated, and I felt truly disgusted with my "luck." There was no loophole for escape, and though the disappearance of the sergeant was a blessing, it might really result in death.
The man had left me alone in the hut,—I cannot call it house,—and when my ill temper had quickly evaporated I began to think of escape. The door was open to the passage or side street, and when I peeped out I perceived a soldier, armed, standing sentry at the end of the cul de sac, as the alley was. Escape seemed impossible. I was again a prisoner; whither could I go, what could I do were the thoughts which surged through my excited brain. The Chinese (or Manchu) soldier had me in his keeping, and perhaps had orders to kill me if I attempted to escape, pending the return of the lieutenant of the guard. Meantime, I was absolutely helpless. In any "civilised" country one might have managed to intercede for oneself, but there in Manchuria the case was different. I was lost!—strayed!
During the minutes already at my disposal I considered all the available plans of evasion I had heard of. Captives in stories, and in all the imaginative books which I had devoured, always had a friend who, whether a Freemason or not, had means at hand to circumvent the villain! But there was no villain in my case; nothing unusual, nothing out of the way in my circumstances, and this dead-level of experience appeared devoid of any person who could undertake the role of the "god in the machine," and release me. Here was the sentry, there the lofty gate, its platform surmounted by a two-storeyed tower, from which the advance of the enemy was doubtless perceived, or would shortly be perceived. Neither sentinel nor entrance seemed likely to afford me passage. Ah! the sentry was approaching. I shrank back into the hut, and peeped through the opening of the door. The sentry came on slowly and somewhat limply.
He had a rifle and ammunition, and seemed well equipped. He passed the place of my concealment, and I began to hope that he would pass on, and permit of my escape to the main street, which, being full of people, might afford opportunities for it; but to my disgust he turned, and came directly towards me. As he came nearer I retreated into the gloom of the hut, and not perceiving me, he came in. Still uncertain, he advanced carelessly, I fancied, and at that moment something prompted me to make a decided effort at release.
He was carrying his rifle on his arm above the elbow, not in any European soldierly manner; a sword or bayonet was at his side. Suddenly I made a spring like a tiger upon the man, and in a second had him thrown. He struggled manfully, and attempted to strike me with a knife, but I was half-maddened, youthful, and strong. I hit him violently between the eyes, and dazed him; then wresting the rifle from his relaxed grasp, I banged it upon his head in a manner which I afterwards regretted, and darted from the hut. As I ran into the alley I encountered my late guide, who was then coming in search of me.
His surprise was genuine, and he made some inquiries by the pantomime method, assisting it by a few words, which I interpreted to indicate surprise at my escape. I told him in the same tongue what had happened, and he was aghast at my temerity! He dragged me back at once hastily, and I was unable to resist him. When he saw the unconscious soldier he became calmer, but still apparently greatly in the same haste, motioning me to assist in taking off the man's outward dress. Seeing some prospect of escape, I helped him, and then putting his own clothes upon the soldier, who never stirred all the time, but lay passive as the dead, my guide quickly dragged me out with him, a prisoner, having first hidden the rifle and ammunition, keeping the sword of the sentry.
But I understood his plan. Armed he might assist me, and quit the town in the dusk of the evening. Proceeding by side streets, and avoiding the largest—all very small—thoroughfares, my rescuer reached a house at which he was recognised as I supposed, but I was wrong. He had merely brought me to an opium-house, where he intended to remain a while till an opportunity arose for leaving the city.
This was a most dreadful experience, because, of course, the idea of opium smoking to me was abhorrent. To lie there upon one of those hard bed-planks, inhaling a pipeful of sticky stuff, which though exceedingly minute, is always—at first at anyrate—most sickly. My guide seemed to think it essential, I supposed, to my safety, and I made shift to comply with his suggestions, but speedily became unconscious, which, I presume, he desired.