would venture out of doors, for the dust-storm which raged was unparalleled even in the dusty annals of Mukden, and M. Naudeau, of the Paris Journal, and Mr. R. H. Little, of the Chicago Daily News, who returned from the front unrecognisable by their best friends, and looking as if they had rolled in dust all the way home, assured me that, even if I had gone out, I could have seen nothing owing to the storm. I employed myself therefore in the composition of a long telegram to the Herald, which I brought to the censor's office at the railway-station. Colonel Pestitch was not at home, being probably half-way to Tiehling by that time, but an English-speaking captain, who acted as his subordinate, took charge of my telegram and said he would translate it for the colonel. He assured me that the telegraph line was uninterrupted, and was so optimistic that I not only paid for this telegram in advance but made a small deposit with him to cover the expenses of future wires from Mukden. Of course he said absolutely nothing about it being necessary to leave the city that night, and nobody else gave me any warning.
On my way back to the town, I went astray owing to the fierceness of the dust-storm (which, by the way, proved so useful to Nodzu that very night), but at length I regained my house in safety.
Some six months earlier four correspondents — Mr. Charles Hands, of the Daily Mail; Mr. R. H. Little, of the Chicago Daily News; Mr. George Denny, of the Associated Press, and myself — had rented, for our use whenever we came to Mukden, a large Chinese house, which stood in a retired spot underneath the imposing south-east corner of Mukden's ancient battlements.
Late on the night of March 9 some of the correspondents— there were only six of us now left, and I was the only Britisher among them — were discussing in this house the position of affairs. With us were three American attaches and one British attache1. It was a serious and dramatic moment. We heard that Nogi had wrecked the railway to the north. We also heard that it had been repaired, but were not inclined to believe this. We heard that Oku had broken through the line to the south-west. It was now certain that the battle was lost. The gigantic army of Muscovy was going to pieces. The whole fabric might come down at any moment, and the disaster would be terrible.
We felt the responsibility of men on whom the eyes of the world are fixed. We were the sole representatives of England, Germany, France, andtAmerica — the only White Powers now left on the face of the earth — at a battle which would change the course of history; and as we stood there, with the Yellow Wave toppling over us, it almost seemed to us asif old Europe were undone. We talked gravely, like ambassadors burdened with a great mission.
" Can Kuropatkin make good his retreat? " was the question we all asked. The military men thought he could not. He was trapped at last. A terrible object lay across his path. That object was Nogi. Somebody muttered the word " Sedan."
We sat there discussing every possible aspect of the situation. We wondered if the Russians would try to escape by the west. If they did, it would be Napoleon's retreat from Moscow over again. The mere thought of that great army of nearly half a million of men flying across the frozen steppes of Mongolia with the Japanese army behind them, the Chinese army on their flanks, and the Mongol horsemen in front, made us shudder. It would be one of the most frightful disasters in history.
Probably the Russians would make a desperate resistance close around Mukden, and attempt to cut their way through the Japanese cordon at some point or other. This meant that Mukden would be shelled to-morrow morning. The attaches were so certain on this point that Captain Bill Judson, one of the American officers, proceeded to draw up plans for a bombproof to be constructed in our courtyard. Principally out of Irish " contrariness/' but also with the object of lightening to some extent the gloom which had settled on our little party, I insisted that the Russians were not cut off at all that they would fight a successful rearguard action at Mukden as they had done at Liaoyang, and that they would not leave the city for three days yet. I made a bet on this subject with Mr. Little — principally because I felt certain that, if I lost, Mr. Little would have some difficulty in getting his money, as in that case we would be all scattered to the four winds of heaven — and I regret to say that when we met at Dalny, about a week later, this was one of the first things on which Little refreshed my memory.
Meanwhile I congratulated myself on having sent my baggage north with Philipoff and the Cossacks.