'The honour and dignity of Russia do not allow of overtures of any sort being made for a surrender.' The morning of the 17th was very unpleasant, with fog, sleet, and mud. The town was already being bombarded, and the shells could be heard bursting in the harbour. With General Smirnoff's permission, I accompanied the flag-of-truce party taking out the reply: it consisted of Captain Golovan, an officer of the General Staff, and Lieutenant Mackalinsky, of the Fortress Staff. As we went out the passers-by gazed at us with curiosity and wonder, many of them thinking probably this was the end of Arthur. At last we reached the fortifications near the cemetery; on this being reported to the Commandant, he at once ordered the guns to cease fire: so that exactly at nine o'clock we were able to move on. I was told to ride in front with the flag, with one of the mounted scouts, the rest of the party and escort following a short distance behind. We passed our firing-line and piquets and went on some distance, but seeing nothing of the Japanese, I began to get suspicious, for I could not forget how they had fired on our Red Cross at Green Hills; perhaps they were now lying in the kiaoling on either side of us ready to pour in a volley. It was jumpy work. 'Sir, sir, there they are!' whispered the man riding beside me. I looked ahead, but could see nothing. At last, however, I noticed four Japanese dressed in khaki behind a sharp bend in the road on a small pass. They were difficult to distinguish from their surroundings, while we, in our uniform, were very conspicuous. Having approached to within fifty yards, we heard in Russian-- 'Halt!' We stopped. 'Advance one!' We stood as still as statues, and a man, evidently a non-commissioned officer, came up. 'What do you want?' We answered. 'All right.' He gave some order to one of the men, who quickly moved off. We stood and looked at one another. The non-commissioned officer, a broad-shouldered, thick-set man, took out a note-book and, with great coolness, wrote something in it. After ten minutes, an interpreter, with a truculent-looking Captain, and a young Lieutenant, came up. At last Major Yamoaka, who had brought the Japanese message, arrived, accompanied by a mounted orderly with a flag and the Corps interpreter, who, in spite of his high rank, spoke Russian most atrociously. After we had presented our credentials, he took and gave us a receipt for our letter, and in his turn handed us one, for which we gave him a receipt. The interpreter informed us that 'this was a very, very important letter.'[16] When the ceremony of handing over the letters was finished, a shell whistled past towards Ta-ku-shan. Major Yamoaka anxiously asked: 'They are surely not firing?' To which Lieutenant Mackalinsky quietly answered: 'No, it is probably at sea.'