China -- History -- Boxer Rebellion, 1899-1901 -- Juvenile fiction; Missions -- China -- Juvenile fiction
It seems years since last I put down anything, and yet it is only a few
weeks ago since that day when we were all together at Cheng-si. How
true it is we know not what an hour may bring forth. I remember the day
of which I am speaking so well; it began so brightly, such a lovely
morning. Rachel and I got up early and went into the garden with
father. That hour seemed to me afterwards one of the most precious in
my life; it made one understand a little of what the disciples must have
felt when the dear Lord Jesus had been laid in the tomb, and they
thought of the last time they were with Him. How tenderly they would
recall His sweet, gracious words, and His loving looks.
I felt like this about father when he was parted from us. We had been
sitting in the garden with him, Rachel and I, and he had been telling us
stories, when all of a sudden we heard a noise, almost like the distant
roar of the sea, and Seng Mi told us the rioters were coming, and then
we had to say good-bye to father. I wished, oh, so much, to stay with
him, but I could not disobey him, especially when I knew it would only
have increased his pain and anxiety, but I crept out of the room where
mother and the others were, and went on to the verandah which overlooks
the court-yard. Oh, it was a dreadful sight! I had never seen such
fiendish, cruel looking people before. They had got hold of poor Daig
Ong and were going to beat her to death. Father did not know anything of
what was going on when he first came out, the crowd being so dense
between him and Daig Ong, but I was above them, and saw it all. They
dragged her along, shrieking for mercy; it was dreadful! I can hear her
screams now sometimes! and they tied her to one of the posts at the
entrance of the court-yard. I pitied poor Daig Ong with all my heart; I
would have done almost anything to save her, but when I saw father I
seemed to forget everything else but him. Just then he looked round and
saw me, and I cried out to him to come up to us. I could not help it,
though all the time I knew it was useless. When I saw that my being
there only made him miserable, I slipped back and ran to the room where
mother was and begged her to leave the others and come with me, and all
the time I cried to the dear Lord Jesus to help us, and protect poor
Daig Ong, and to save father from the cruel people outside. Mother
turned very white when I spoke to her. She did not know how to leave
little baby Anna. It was one of baby’s bad days. She did not seem in
any pain, but she lay back in Nurse’s arms very quiet and still, and
looked up at her with intently solemn eyes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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