the house caught fire upstairs while we were dining below. It was a
men's dinner-" A dinner of all sorts," said Tarvrille, when he
invited me; "everything from Evesham and Gane to Wilkins the author,
and Heaven knows what will happen!" I remember that afterwards
Tarvrille was accused of having planned the fire to make his dinner
a marvel and a memory. It was indeed a wonderful occasion, and I
suppose if I had not been altogether drenched in misery, I should
have found the same wild amusement in it that glowed in all the
others. There were one or two university dons, Lord George Fester,
the racing man, Panmure, the artist, two or three big City men,
Weston Massinghay and another prominent Liberal whose name I can't
remember, the three men Tarvrille had promised and Esmeer, Lord
Wrassleton, Waulsort, the member for Monckton, Neal and several
others. We began a little coldly, with duologues, but the
conversation was already becoming general-so far as such a long
table permitted-when the fire asserted itself.
It asserted itself first as a penetrating and emphatic smell of
burning rubber,-it was caused by the fusing of an electric wire.
The reek forced its way into the discussion of the Pekin massacres
that had sprung up between Evesham, Waulsort, and the others at the
end of the table. "Something burning," said the man next to me.
"Something must be burning," said Panmure.
Tarvrille hated undignified interruptions. He had a particularly
imperturbable butler with a cadaverous sad face and an eye of rigid
disapproval. He spoke to this individual over his shoulder. "Just
see, will you," he said, and caught up the pause in the talk to his
left.
Wilkins was asking questions, and I, too, was curious. The story of
the siege of the Legations in China in the year 1900 and all that
followed upon that, is just one of those disturbing interludes in
history that refuse to join on to that general scheme of
protestation by which civilisation is maintained. It is a break in
the general flow of experience as disconcerting to statecraft as the
robbery of my knife and the scuffle that followed it had been to me
when I was a boy at Penge. It is like a tear in a curtain revealing
quite unexpected backgrounds. I had never given the business a
thought for years; now this talk brought back a string of pictures
to my mind; how the reliefs arrived and the plundering began, how
section after section of the International Army was drawn into
murder and pillage, how the infection spread upward until the wives
of Ministers were busy looting, and the very sentinels stripped and
crawled like snakes into the Palace they were set to guard. It did
not stop at robbery, men were murdered, women, being plundered, were
outraged, children were butchered, strong men had found themselves
with arms in a lawless, defenceless city, and this had followed.
Now it was all recalled.
"Respectable ladies addicted to district visiting at home were as
bad as any one," said Panmure. "Glazebrook told me of one-flushed
like a woman at a bargain sale, he said-and when he pointed out to
her that the silk she'd got was bloodstained, she just said, 'Oh,
bother!' and threw it aside and went back…"
We became aware that Tarvrille's butler had returned. We tried not
to seem to listen.
"Beg pardon, m'lord," he said. "The house IS on fire, m'lord."
"Upstairs, m'lord."
"Just overhead, m'lord."
"The maids are throwing water, m'lord, and I've telephoned FIRE."
"No, m'lord, no immediate danger."
"It's all right," said Tarvrille to the table generally. Go on!
It's not a general conflagration, and the fire brigade won't be five
minutes. Don't see that it's our affair. The stuff's insured.
They say old Lady Paskershortly was dreadful. Like a harpy. The
Dowager Empress had shown her some little things of hers. Pet
things-hidden away. Susan went straight for them-used to take an
umbrella for the silks. Born shoplifter."
It was evident he didn't want his dinner spoilt, and we played up
loyally.
"This is recorded history," said Wilkins,-" practically. It makes
one wonder about unrecorded history. In India, for example."
But nobody touched that.
"Thompson," said Tarvrille to the imperturbable butler, and
indicating the table generally, "champagne. Champagne. Keep it
going."
"M'lord," and Thompson marshalled his assistants.
Some man I didn't know began to remember things about Mandalay.
"It's queer," he said, "how people break out at times;" and told his
story of an army doctor, brave, public-spirited, and, as it
happened, deeply religious, who was caught one evening by the
excitement of plundering-and stole and hid, twisted the wrist of a
boy until it broke, and was afterwards overcome by wild remorse.
I watched Evesham listening intently. "Strange," he said, "very
strange. We are such stuff as thieves are made of. And in China,
too, they murdered people-for the sake of murdering. Apart, so to
speak, from mercenary considerations. I'm afraid there's no doubt
of it in certain cases. No doubt at all. Young soldiers fresh from
German high schools and English homes!"
"Did OUR people?" asked some patriot.
"Not so much. But I'm afraid there were cases… Some of the
Indian troops were pretty bad."
Gane picked up the tale with confirmations.