They were, however, only the usual things—­watches, rings, snuff-boxes, hair-ornaments, curios of minor value, and a few stones of bad colour.  But the men crowded round me and extolled their wares like the hucksters of Europe, and beseeched me to buy in a most anxious manner.  They would sell cheap, very cheap, they confessed, at the present moment, because they had just learned that an order had been issued to search all their kits and to turn over the finds to a common fund.  Rumours had spread to Europe, they said—­it was the first I had heard of it—­of the dark things which had been going on, and the generals were becoming alarmed....

Fortunately I had with me some gold coin, and for a mere song I purchased everything.  I did not want to do so, but already experience has taught us that it is best to buy when you are alone and no help near by, otherwise your pockets may be turned out and everything taken without an excuse.  That happened to a man in the German Legation.

I climbed down from the famous Coal Hill, thinking very little of the renowned view.  I wondered merely when it was all going to end, and how normal conditions were going to come.  I wandered, thinking in this manner, over the famous marble bridge, that delicate, delightful tracing of stone which so charmingly crosses an artificial lake thick with swaying lotus.  I turned this way and that, not thinking very much where I was going; and presently, on my way back, walked past the Little Detached Palace, where, they say, the Emperor was imprisoned after the 1898 coup d’etat.  Here there was a curious sight, which brought back my wandering attention.  French and English soldiers divided the honour of guarding this Palace entrance.  Rival sentries stood only ten or fifteen feet away from one another and jealously watched to see that this prize was not secretly seized.  The British regiment had the actual gates; it seemed that the French had posted themselves so close merely to watch.  I passed these lines of sentries and wandered along, only to be accosted once more as soon as I was in a quiet alley.  I soon found that this man and his mates were more cunning than those with whom I had had previously to deal and that some time must elapse before a bargain could be struck.  They wasted time ascertaining who I was, and only hinted at good things—­not the usual watches and rings, they said, but really things worth their weight in pure gold.  Then one man tempted me deliberately with an abrupt movement which reminded me of the way the sellers of obscene playing-cards in Paris disclose to the unsuspecting stranger their wares.  He drew from his tunic a little wooden box, opened it quickly, and laid bare a most exquisite Louis XV. gold belt-buckle, set in diamonds and rubies, and beautifully painted.  I, who knew a little of Manchu history, understood that belt-buckle.  It must have been one of the countless presents made during the early days of the Jesuits in Peking, when they almost controlled the destinies of the Empire.  It was a priceless relic.