T----, the Austrian commander, was already conferring with a
dear colleague whom he had discovered in the dark. Even in this storm
of excitement the protocol could not be forgotten. Marines, sailors,
and Legation juniors groaned; was this opportunity to be missed? At
last they arranged it; it should be a charge of volunteers.

"Volunteers to the front," shouted somebody. Everybody sprang forward
like one man. A French squad was already fixing bayonets noisily and
excusing their rattle and cursing on account of the dark; the
Austrians had deployed and were already advancing. _"Pas de charge,"_
called a French middy. Somebody started tootling a bugle, and
helter-skelter we were off down the street, with fixed bayonets and
loaded magazines, a veritable massacre for ourselves in the dark....

The charge blew itself out in less than four hundred yards, and we
pulled up panting, swearing and laughing. Somebody had stuck some one
else through the seat of the trousers, and the some one else was
making a horrid noise about this trivial detail. Some rifles had also
gone off by themselves, how, why and at whom no one would explain. A
very fine night counter-attack we were, and the rear was the safest
place. Yet that run did us good. It was like a good drink of strong
wine.

But we had now reached the first torches and understood why they
remained stationary. The Boxers, met by the Austrian machine-gun, had
stuck them in long lines along the edge of the raised driving road,
and had then sneaked back quietly in the dark. Every minute we
expected to have our progress checked by the dead bodies of those we
had slain, but not a corpse could you see. The Austrian commander was
now once again holding a council of war, and this time he urged a
prompt retreat. We had certainly lost touch with our own lines, and
for all we knew we might suddenly be greeted with a volley from our
own people coming out to reinforce us. Our commanders wobbled this
way and that for a few minutes, but then, goaded by the general
desire, we pushed forward again, with a common movement, without
orders this time. We moved more slowly, firing heavily at every shadow
along the sides of the road. Here it seemed more black than ever, for
the spluttering torches, which cast a dim light on the raised road
itself, left the neighbouring houses in an impenetrable gloom. Whole
battalions of Boxers could have lurked there unmarked by us; perhaps
they were only waiting unt