of the Boxer rebellion in China, when the Pekin Embassy
was in a state of siege, and by July almost all hope that any Europeans
would be saved from their dire peril had faded away.

The Memorial Service, arranged by a too eager dignitary of the Church to
take place in St Paul's, had certainly been adjourned at the last
moment; but as days and weeks passed, and the little garrison was still
unrelieved, very little hope was entertained. In fact, by July most
people hoped and believed that their troubles must be already over,
through the merciful interposition of death.

A connection of mine, whom I had known well when she was a child, but
had not seen for many years, was shut up with her husband, children, and
sister in the Pekin Embassy at the time. Thousands were lamenting her
sad fate, and I naturally amongst them; but I wish to make clear that,
owing to the years that had elapsed since I had seen this special member
of the family, it was not in any sense a very personal sorrow, nor was I
then--nor am I now--aware of any special tie of affinity between this
lady and myself.

I had gone to bed about eleven o'clock on the night of 4th July 1900,
and had been in bed about half-an-hour, without any attempt at going to
sleep, when suddenly I felt extremely alert in mind, very much as Miss
Porter described herself in the Captain Carbury episode. Almost
immediately upon this feeling of mental alertness came the conviction
that Mabel M'Leod (as I will call her) was in the room, close to me, and
that she was in some dire and urgent need of help--instantaneous help, I
mean. I could neither see nor hear on this occasion--I only _knew_ these
facts through some power of intuition, all the more remarkable because,
having made up my mind that all was over at the Embassy, I had not been
thinking of her or of her fellow-sufferers for some days past.

My thoughts were fully engaged at the time with the grief of my host and
hostess.

With the knowledge of Mabel's presence came also the conviction that she
was _still alive_--in the physical body--and that it was no excarnate
spirit that was appealing to me for help.

The impression was so vivid that I called out instinctively: "What is
it, Mabel? What can I do for you?" There was no response, either by
outward or inner voice, only the insistent appeal for help, and
knowledge of some imminent danger at hand for her. I am trying to
explain that something more than the usual hourly per