The fire brigade, if such a thing existed, had naturally decamped on the fall of the south gate, and the Allies found the town on fire in a dozen places, notably in the N.W. and S.E. quarters. The reason that these two quarters suffered most heavily in this respect, while the N.E. and S.W. quarters enjoyed comparative immunity, is easily explained, when it is understood that the majority of the Allies’ guns were facing the N.W. to S.E. diagonal, so that should a shell just top the wall, it perhaps created a fire in the S.E. corner, whereas, if elevated for another three or four hundred yards, it had a similar chance of doing so in the N.E. corner. There was a good deal to be done, one of the most important things being the barring of ingress to any one but Europeans. To ensure this, all the gates were guarded, and all outgoing Chinamen were searched, and permitted to go, while all candidates for admission were searched and turned back. A rather grim incident occurred during the police work at the north gate. The Japanese were guarding the bridge outside the walls when two Chinamen came along, dressed like coolies, and begged for admission. This was at once refused; whereupon the two men tried to shove past the guard. Of course such temerity was fatal; they were leapt upon and thrown to the earth, after which they were searched; on each were found arms and ammunition, and both were immediately “despatched,” and their bodies hurled into the river. Some one near by, expressed the opinion that it was rather an arbitrary method of dealing with them; but by every rule of war their fate was deserved. They were spies with arms concealed on them, and by their eagerness to get inside the gates, it may be supposed that some plan was to be carried through to the detriment of the troops in possession, which was only frustrated by their timely end. It was, however, noticeable that later candidates carried themselves with more submission than the two whose fate had been just witnessed.