Why the men who had seemed so bitter and cruel at noon had not followed and attacked our weakened party I have never been able to entirely explain. I can only surmise that, like most Asiatics, they were firmly convinced that Mr. Underwood, in common with all foreigners, always went heavily though secretly armed, and that any attempt to injure our persons would result in awful calamity. In addition, our passport and the well-known fact that we were on very friendly relations with the palace may have made them fear the consequence of harming us, even though they were more than half resolved to do so. More than this, the villagers who forbade them to touch us probably knew their haunts and would be able to hunt them out; and lastly, the fact that Mr. Underwood stoutly resisted them and showed no signs of fear undoubtedly had a marked effect upon their treatment of us. Witness the fact that even the little soldier, the only man of our native party who fought them and showed no fear, was the only one of the Koreans who escaped unhurt. If we had at any moment shown ourselves afraid of them they would have taken it as sure proof that we were defenseless. Had they seen our little revolver, and known it for our only weapon, they would have counted us, as we were, practically helpless, and our fate might have been decided very differently. At the time I felt certain they were not through with us, but having weakened our party, they would attack us in the lonely road, far away from the friendly village, and finish their work. We could scarcely hope to distance them, handicapped as we were, but I felt we could not put too much space between them and us, and many a backward glance I cast, expecting to see them emerge any moment from some rock or tree. Good for man or woman it is to feel one’s self cast utterly on God’s mercy, and entirely in his hands, to know one’s self beyond all human aid, with him alone to look to for succor. As I turned to my husband that day and said, “Well, there’s nothing left to do but to trust the Lord,” it flashed over us both how commonly we only trust him when there is nothing else to do, as if his help were the last we should ever invoke, a last forlorn hope. How far, far too much, we fall into the habit of trusting in an arm of flesh and all the frail little human makeshifts with which we encompass ourselves and fancy we are safe. But how near he seems, how strong the uplift of the “everlasting arms,” when the soul is left alone to him.