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Another time the alarm went, due to a slight misunderstanding at one of the gates. It was approaching dusk and the sailor sentry, who had no doubt been standing guard at this particular gate at the back of the Concession for some time, was beginning to get bored. The gates, of wood, with a small window through which persons on the far side could be inspected, were open. Outside stood a row of hawker's stands, for the most part purveying cooked foods to the coolies who passed in and out. The stand nearest to the sentry held a large copper pan, of the sort in which rice is cooked, over a small fire. At the moment the pan was empty, and the sentry, being of an enquiring mind, wondered what would happen if he put a rifle cartridge in it. The experiment produced a loud bang and several holes through the bottom of the pan. An infuriated hawker, supported by increasing numbers of excited fellow tradesmen, shouted curses at the sentry and loudly demanded large sums of money in compensation for the damage done. At the sound of the explosion the naval guard in a near-by house turned out. The petty officer in charge was a great barrel of a man, an old tarpaulin of long service in many parts of the world where opportunities for cultivation of that diplomatic tact, in which the Royal Navy is so accomplished, must have been numerous. In less time than it takes to tell he had the situation well in hand, had paid one dollar compensation for the damage done, had closed the gates, and had nipped an incipient riot in the bud. It was considered unwise to allow a "matelot" of such an enquiring mind ashore again, and for the remainder of that destroyer's stay at Kiu Kiang he was confined to his ship.
Late on an afternoon early in January, 1927, as the river water swirled past the hulks under the hard light of the wintry sun, a strange tall man walked down the Bund, accompanied by a number of Chinese dressed in civilian clothes. He wore the collarless buttoned-up jacket, the knee-high black leather boots, and the little leather-peaked brown cap, of one of Borodin's officers. His companions were members of the Revolutionary Kuo Min Tang party. They moved along looking at the houses, at the cross-roads, and at the foreshore, talking and gesticulating. Outside the Consulate they paused to read the pink posters and the green posters. They were planning the organisation of riots, the object of which would be to draw fire from the British sailors guarding the gates. The bodies of a few dead Chinese rioters, shot by the blackguard Imperialists, would provide excellent fuel to inflame still further the feelings of an excited populace; and would at the same time give ammunition for the