"We must be off. It's getting pretty hot over there, and it may swing around this way any minute. Sergeant, would you stay here a little while and watch Monsieur Lespès? If he seems inclined to pay his compliments to the town as well as to the batteries, run up the red signal. But don't stay here after this is in the line of fire. I don't want you to get your head knocked off."
"Very good, sir! I shall thry not to come down to you wid me head in me hand."
Sinclair and the consul ran down the dark stairway within the old fort and hurried away, the latter to his house close by, the former to MacKay's to get his instruments and then to Thomson's to give them the consul's message. Gorman stood alone on his watch-tower, looking out upon the scene.
The solid old memorial of Dutch and Chinese workmanship stood on the most prominent angle of the hill which thrust itself forward towards the sea. For two and a half centuries it had braved siege and storm and the wasting forces of tropical typhoons, of rain and sun and clinging, insidious tropical vegetation. In a line with it, along the brow of the hill facing the harbour, were the consul's house, Dr. MacKay's bungalow and that of his colleague, and the residences of the customs officers. Just behind MacKay's house were the two mission schools. In a parallel line below the hill and mostly close to the shore were the customs house, then after a considerable interval MacAllister, Munro Co.'s, Reid & Co.'s, Dr. Bergmann's house, and the Mission Hospital, right in the native town. Away at the far end of the town, a mile beyond the other foreign residences on a little eminence facing the river, were the house and godowns of Scott & Co., known as Peeatow. Over each foreign building flew the British flag, save where Dr. Bergmann had hoisted the flag of his fatherland. Out in mid-stream, right in front of MacAllister, Munro Co.'s, the trim, workmanlike Locust floated on the rising tide.
The residence and godowns of Mr. MacAllister's firm had been chosen as the rendezvous. They were in a sheltered position in what was almost a little cove between the hill and the river. There Commander Gardenier had sent a force of ten bluejackets under a petty officer. As Gorman moved his glass from point to point to fix all in his memory a boat pulled away from the Locust carrying another guard of eight men to Peeatow, where a number of foreigners had elected to remain, because of its distance from the ships of war.
The sergeant turned again to the artillery duel. All over the open downs to the north shells were furrowing the hard, dry soil, ricochetting from knoll to knoll, and exploding harmlessly on the grass. The points where the fewest shells fell were the hollows in which the Chinese camps were sheltered. In spite of the hurtling showers of projectiles which at times filled the air, these seemed to be practically immune.
"Howly Moses!" said Gorman to himself, "if that's the kind of shootin' the Frinchies do, the only safe spot in tin square miles is the man they're aimin' at."
Then a great, clumsy blue-grey water buffalo, the draught beast of the island, disturbed in its accustomed pasture grounds by thundering guns and cracking shells, went lumbering across the common a short distance away. Its ugly snout was thrown forward, its great curved horns laid back against its shoulders. A shell plumped into the ground under its belly and, exploding instantly, blew the buffalo into ten thousand fragments.
"Furst casuality!" exclaimed Gorman. "Private Wather Buffalo of the Furst Battalion, Tamsui Blues, General Soon's heavy brigade. Turned into mince meat. Chewed and partly digested. Dead and mostly missin'."
The next instant it was: