He then introduced me as Man Tai Fu, my Chinese title. They sullenly acknowledged my presence, for the first time, by a slight nod in my direction, and General Chang asked Hu if he had an interpreter who could converse with me.
“Oh, he doesn’t need an interpreter,” replied Hu; “he has lived in China fifteen years, has sons and daughters born here, and speaks our language like a native.”
Upon this, my nearest neighbor, Lieutenant-Colonel Wang, relaxed a little, and observed that he had never talked with a foreigner, and would be glad to make my acquaintance. I replied that it was a mutual pleasure, and asked his age, province, and personal name, which pleased him greatly.
As it was rapidly growing darker, however, and we had not yet seen the wounded men, Hu cut short our budding conversation by requesting General Chang to show them to me.
He curtly declared, “They are in camp half a mile away, and he can go and see them if he wants to.”
“Will you go?” inquired Hu.
“Yes, if you will go with me,” I replied, not caring to venture alone into the hostile camp, especially after what I had seen of the temper of their leaders; but I added, “I think it would be much better to have them brought here.”
“Yes, yes, that is better,” said Hu; but General Chang interrupted him by saying:
“Impossible! they are too ill to be moved, and on this cold day would surely take cold and die.”
“Have them well wrapped up and brought quickly,” said Hu, without paying attention to the interruption, “for it is getting late, and although I have ordered the city gates not to close until our return to Peking, I am anxious to avoid keeping them open any later than necessary.”