and left with the others by the
North road. A long line of nine litters swung through the great archways
of the city gates, soon after dawn on 4th December 1911, to convey us to
our nearest point on the railway line, five days' journey away, passing
_en route_ through a city where we knew that a trustworthy Christian
family would take charge, _pro tem_, of some of our Chinese girls.

It was with relief that we saw the distant railway embankment, which
indicated to us that we had reached the end of our litter journey, and
might now expect to be shortly whirled back to the midst of Western
civilisation.

The time-table indicated 9 a.m. as the hour of departure for the morning
train, and long ere this our shivering group assembled on the bleak
platform. We were evidently not to be kept waiting, for the train stood
ready on a siding, and our slight baggage was soon placed in the racks
of the only third-class carriage attached to a goods train. Those who
have spent years away from the sight of a train will understand the
sense of luxury with which we seated ourselves, and waited to hear the
whistle which would be the sign of our departure, and feel the swift,
easy movement which would carry us over so many miles of road almost
without a trace of weariness. Our number had increased to about twenty
foreigners, assembled in response to Sir John Jordan's command from
various stations, and pleasant conversation so engaged the time that
impatience was under control, even though the sun was high in the
heavens and still the train was stationary. Our servants, who had heard
much of the marvels of steam-engines, still sat on patient heels at the
edge of the platform; but doubt of the superiority of this Western
notion gained on their minds as the sun passed the meridian and they,
with twelve miles to walk for their night's lodging, left us still
standing motionless. "A train is a handsome thing to look at, and the
amount of iron used in its manufacture must be immense, but for
practical purposes give me a cart," was the report they brought home to
inquiring friends at Hwochow. In the afternoon we steamed away, under
escort of a young man who had just been appointed Secretary of the
Foreign Office in the provincial capital by the new revolutionary
party. His qualifications for the post consisted chiefly in the fact
that, having been employed by a foreign firm as piano-tuner, he could
make himself understood in the English tongue on