He pays a high compliment to Captain Jellicoe, for he says that it was owing to the splendid way in which the British troops were handled that the casualties were no heavier than they were. The response of the men was splendid, and their behaviour under a terrific fire excellent. But Mr. Whittall acknowledges that "it was a shocking business." CHAPTER VI THE SPIRIT OF DRAKE In a recent issue of the _Pall Mall Gazette_ Mr. Whittall paints a very good pen portrait of Captain Jellicoe at this time. "It was to him that I was referred for permission to accompany the relieving force, and I can see him now as he put a few terse, direct questions to me before granting the required permit. A man below middle height, alert, with that in the calm, grey eyes which spoke of decision and a serene confidence in himself, not the confidence of the over-sure, but that of the real leader of men. A man whose features would have been unpleasantly hard but for the lurking humour of the eyes and for certain humorous lines about a mouth that on occasion could take the likeness of a steel trap. A man to trust instinctively and one to like from the beginning. Those were my first impressions of him as he stood that June morning watching the troop trains discharge their freights on to a dusty North China platform. Later when I came to know him he inspired me with the same feeling of affection with which he was regarded by every one with whom he had occasion to come into close contact. There was, and is, the magnetism about the man which stamps the personality of him who is indeed a commander rather than one who commands." Mr. Whittall was with him after he was wounded and while the allied forces were retiring on Tientsin. What Jellicoe must have suffered then no one will ever know. He was first of all placed for safety in a native house and later on moved into a small native boat. His wound must have pained him terribly. His case was considered hopeless, as the bullet had reached one of his lungs and recovery seemed impossible. Moreover, he knew that now Pekin would not be relieved; the mission had failed. But his superb vitality pulled him through. He would not go under. Mr. Whittall describes how he sent for him and asked to be told how things were progressing. "Foolishly perhaps," says Mr. Whittall, "I tried to make the best of affairs and said that I thought we should cut our way back to Tientsin or even to the coast if the foreign settlements had fallen. "I don't think I shall ever forget the contemptuous flash of the eyes he turned on me, or the impatient remark: "'Tell me the truth. Don't lie.' "I had thought to lessen the anxiety I knew he must have been feeling, but if I had known him as I learnt to do later on, I should have told him the plain truth straight out. He thanked me and, indicating his wounded shoulder with his eyes, remarked: "'Hard luck just now!'"