only a ripple, a few bubbles, show the place where it had been. A few minutes since, and Paul St. John had stood before them like a beautiful avenging angel; now he lay there silent and still, with his white face upturned to the pitiless sky.

CHAPTER IV.

CECILIA CONTINUES HER STORY.

So many dreadful things have happened since last I told my story, that if I had not promised Nina, I do not think I could have written any more; but since the troubles began in China, Nina and I agreed to write a little history of what is happening every day, and afterwards we shall compare notes, and then, as Mother says, it will interest our friends at home, and perhaps some of the Missionary papers may like the account for their magazines.

It seems years since last I put down anything, and yet it is only a few weeks ago since that day when we were all together at Cheng-si. How true it is we know not what an hour may bring forth. I remember the day of which I am speaking so well; it began so brightly, such a lovely morning. Rachel and I got up early and went into the garden with father. That hour seemed to me afterwards one of the most precious in my life; it made one understand a little of what the disciples must have felt when the dear Lord Jesus had been laid in the tomb, and they thought of the last time they were with Him. How tenderly they would recall His sweet, gracious words, and His loving looks.

I felt like this about father when he was parted from us. We had been sitting in the garden with him, Rachel and I, and he had been telling us stories, when all of a sudden we heard a noise, almost like the distant roar of the sea, and Seng Mi told us the rioters were coming, and then we had to say good-bye to father. I wished, oh, so much, to stay with him, but I could not disobey him, especially when I knew it would only have increased his pain and anxiety, but I crept out of the room where mother and the others were, and went on to the verandah which overlooks the court-yard. Oh, it was a dreadful sight! I had never seen such fiendish, cruel looking people before. They had got hold of poor Daig Ong and were going to beat her to death. Father did not know anything of what was going on when he first came out, the crowd being so dense between him and Daig Ong, but I was above them, and saw it all. They dragged her along, shrieking for mercy; it was dreadful! I can hear her screams now sometimes! and they tied her to one of the posts at the entrance of the court-yard. I pitied poor Daig Ong with all my heart; I would have done almost anything to save her, but when I saw father I seemed to forget everything else but him. Just then he looked round and saw me, and I cried out to him to come up to us. I could not help it, though all the time I knew it was useless. When I saw that my being there only made him miserable, I slipped back and ran to the room where mother was and begged her to leave the others and come with me, and all the time I cried to the dear Lord Jesus to help us, and protect poor Daig Ong, and to save father from the cruel people outside. Mother turned very white when I spoke to her. She did not know how to leave little baby Anna. It was one of baby's bad days. She did not seem in any pain, but she lay back in Nurse's arms very quiet and still, and looked up at her with intently solemn eyes.

Mother had put on the Chinese dress, and all the others were dressed in the same way; and appeared ready to start at a moment's notice. Mother's face was very pale, but she had that patient, enduring expression with which the martyr saints are always drawn; it was only her eyes that were full of pain. I do not know why I wished her to come, save that I had always been accustomed to think she could do anything, and to save father.

When we got down to the portico he was nowhere to be seen. We stood on the steps and looked out over a vast sea of cruel, wicked faces. At first I felt no fear, partly because I was with mother, and then it was such a relief to me to see that they had left off beating Daig Ong, and that father was not there. I kept on wondering where he was, and felt sure he had escaped with Daig Ong.

Now the great danger seemed to lie in the possibility of their rushing the house. Mother had whispered to Nurse to take the others on the way that had been arranged: through the Mission-house and huts, out of the village, and we were to follow afterwards.

As we stood there a grave Chinese gentleman came up and took his place at our side. I had seen him sometimes when he came to study with father, but had never spoken to him. He came quietly up and stood beside us, but he never once turned to look at us, though mother looked up at him.

"Are you Mr. Li?" I heard her say.

"Yes," he replied, simply. I saw a great wave of relief sweep over her face.

"Do stay with us, do not leave us," she said.

"I intend to remain here," he replied, quietly, but he did not even then turn and look at us.

"And you will do what you can?—My husband?"

He did not reply to the last, but only said very simply—

"Madam, I came here on purpose to help you."