Many hours passed before Ling, now more downcast in mind than the most
unsuccessful student in Canton, returned to his room and sought his
couch of dried rushes. All his efforts to have his distinguished
appointment set aside had been without avail, and he had been ordered to
reach Si-chow within a week. As he passed through the streets, elegant
processions in honour of the winners met him at every corner, and drove
him into the outskirts for the object of quietness. There he remained
until the beating of paper drums and the sound of exulting voices could
be heard no more; but even when he returned lanterns shone in many
dwellings, for two hundred persons were composing verses, setting forth
their renown and undoubted accomplishments, ready to affix to their
doors and send to friends on the next day. Not giving any portion of
his mind to this desirable act of behaviour, Ling flung himself upon the
floor, and, finding sleep unattainable, plunged himself into profound
meditation of a very uninviting order. “Without doubt,” he exclaimed,
“evil can only arise from evil, and as this person has always
endeavoured to lead a life in which his devotions have been equally
divided between the sacred Emperor, his illustrious parents, and his
venerable ancestors, the fault cannot lie with him. Of the excellence of
his parents he has full knowledge; regarding the Emperor, it might
not be safe to conjecture. It is therefore probable that some of his
ancestors were persons of abandoned manner and inelegant habits, to
worship whom results in evil rather than good. Otherwise, how could it
be that one whose chief delight lies in the passive contemplation of the
Four Books and the Five Classics, should be selected by destiny to fill
a position calling for great personal courage and an aggressive nature?
Assuredly it can only end in a mean and insignificant death, perhaps not
even followed by burial.”
In this manner of thought he fell asleep, and after certain very base
and impressive dreams, from which good omens were altogether absent, he
awoke, and rose to begin his preparations for leaving the city. After
two days spent chiefly in obtaining certain safeguards against treachery
and the bullets of foemen, purchasing opium and other gifts with
which to propitiate the soldiers under his charge, and in consulting
well-disposed witches and readers of the future, he set out, and by
travelling in extreme discomfort, reached Si-chow within five days.
During his journey he learned that the entire Province was engaged in
secret rebellion, several towns, indeed, having declared against
the Imperial army without reserve. Those persons to whom Ling spoke
described the rebels, with respectful admiration, as fierce and
unnaturally skilful in all methods of fighting, revengeful and merciless
towards their enemies, very numerous and above the ordinary height of
human beings, and endowed with qualities which made their skin capable
of turning aside every kind of weapon. Furthermore, he was assured that
a large band of the most abandoned and best trained was at that moment
in the immediate neighbourhood of Si-chow.
Ling was not destined long to remain in any doubt concerning the truth
of these matters, for as he made his way through a dark cypress wood,
a few li from the houses of Si-chow, the sounds of a confused outcry
reached his ears, and on stepping aside to a hidden glade some distance
from the path, he beheld a young and elegant maiden of incomparable
beauty being carried away by two persons of most repulsive and
undignified appearance, whose dress and manner clearly betrayed them to
be rebels of the lowest and worst-paid type. At this sight Ling became
possessed of feelings of a savage yet agreeable order, which until
that time he had not conjectured to have any place within his mind, and
without even pausing to consider whether the planets were in favourable
positions for the enterprise to be undertaken at that time, he drew his
sword, and ran forward with loud cries. Unsettled in their intentions
at this unexpected action, the two persons turned and advanced upon Ling
with whirling daggers, discussing among themselves whether it would be
better to kill him at the first blow or to take him alive, and, when
the day had become sufficiently cool for the full enjoyment of the
spectacle, submit him to various objectionable tortures of so degraded a
nature that they were rarely used in the army of the Emperor except upon
the persons of barbarians. Observing that the maiden was not bound, Ling
cried out to her to escape and seek protection within the town, adding,
with a magnanimous absence of vanity:
“Should this person chance to fall, the repose which the presence of
so lovely and graceful a being would undoubtedly bring to his departing
spirit would be out-balanced by the unendurable thought that his
commonplace efforts had not been sufficient to save her from the two
evilly-disposed individuals who are, as he perceives, at this moment,
neglecting no means within their power to accomplish his destruction.”
Accepting the discernment of these words, the maiden fled, first
bestowing a look upon Ling which clearly indicated an honourable regard
for himself, a high-minded desire that the affair might end profitably
on his account, and an amiable hope that they should meet again, when
these subjects could be expressed more clearly between them.
In the meantime Ling had become at a disadvantage, for the time occupied
in speaking and in making the necessary number of bows in reply to
her entrancing glance had given the other persons an opportunity
of arranging their charms and sacred written sentences to greater
advantage, and of occupying the most favourable ground for the
encounter. Nevertheless, so great was the force of the new emotion which
had entered into Ling’s nature that, without waiting to consider the
dangers or the best method of attack, he rushed upon them, waving his
sword with such force that he appeared as though surrounded by a circle
of very brilliant fire. In this way he reached the rebels, who both fell
unexpectedly at one blow, they, indeed, being under the impression that
the encounter had not commenced in reality, and that Ling was merely
menacing them in order to inspire their minds with terror and raise his
own spirits. However much he regretted this act of the incident which
he had been compelled to take, Ling could not avoid being filled with
intellectual joy at finding that his own charms and omens were more
distinguished than those possessed by the rebels, none of whom, as he
now plainly understood, he need fear.
Examining these things within his mind, and reflecting on the events
of the past few days, by which he had been thrown into a class of
circumstances greatly differing from anything which he had ever sought,
Ling continued his journey, and soon found himself before the southern
gate of Si-chow. Entering the town, he at once formed the resolution of
going before the Mandarin for Warlike Deeds and Arrangements, so that he
might present, without delay, the papers and seals which he had brought
with him from Canton.
“The noble Mandarin Li Keen?” replied the first person to whom Ling
addressed himself. “It would indeed be a difficult and hazardous
conjecture to make concerning his sacred person. By chance he is in the
strongest and best-concealed cellar in Si-chow, unless the sumptuous
attractions of the deepest dry well have induced him to make a short
journey”; and, with a look of great unfriendliness at Ling’s dress and
weapons, this person passed on.
“Doubtless he is fighting single-handed against the armed men by whom
the place is surrounded,” said another; “or perhaps he is constructing
an underground road from the Yamen to Peking, so that we may all escape
when the town is taken. All that can be said with certainty is that the
Heaven-sent and valorous Mandarin has not been seen outside the walls of
his well-fortified residence since the trouble arose; but, as you carry
a sword of conspicuous excellence, you will doubtless be welcome.”
Upon making a third attempt Ling was more successful, for he inquired
of an aged woman, who had neither a reputation for keen and polished
sentences to maintain, nor any interest in the acts of the Mandarin
or of the rebels. From her he learned how to reach the Yamen, and
accordingly turned his footsteps in that direction. When at length
he arrived at the gate, Ling desired his tablets to be carried to the
Mandarin with many expressions of an impressive and engaging nature,
nor did he neglect to reward the porter. It was therefore with the
expression of a misunderstanding mind that he received a reply setting
forth that Li Keen was unable to receive him. In great doubt he
prevailed upon the porter, by means of a still larger reward, again to
carry in his message, and on this occasion an answer in this detail was
placed before him.
“Li Keen,” he was informed, “is indeed awaiting the arrival of one Ling,
a noble and valiant Commander of Bowmen. He is given to understand,
it is true, that a certain person claiming the same honoured name is
standing in somewhat undignified attitudes at the gate, but he is unable
in any way to make these two individuals meet within his intellect. He
would further remind all persons that the refined observances laid down
by the wise and exalted Board of Rites and Ceremonies have a marked and
irreproachable significance when the country is in a state of disorder,
the town surrounded by rebels, and every breathing-space of time of more
than ordinary value.”
Overpowered with becoming shame at having been connected with so
unseemly a breach of civility, for which his great haste had in reality
been accountable, Ling hastened back into the town, and spent many hours
endeavouring to obtain a chair of the requisite colour in which to
visit the Mandarin. In this he was unsuccessful, until it was at length
suggested to him that an ordinary chair, such as stood for hire in the
streets of Si-chow, would be acceptable if covered with blue paper.
Still in some doubt as to what the nature of his reception would be,
Ling had no choice but to take this course, and accordingly he again
reached the Yamen in such a manner, carried by two persons whom he had
obtained for the purpose. While yet hardly at the residence a salute was
suddenly fired; all the gates and doors were, without delay, thrown open
with embarrassing and hospitable profusion, and the Mandarin himself
passed out, and would have assisted Ling to step down from his chair
had not that person, clearly perceiving that such a course would be
too great an honour, evaded him by an unobtrusive display of versatile
dexterity. So numerous and profound were the graceful remarks which each
made concerning the habits and accomplishments of the other that more
than the space of an hour was passed in traversing the small enclosed
ground which led up to the principal door of the Yamen. There an almost
greater time was agreeably spent, both Ling and the Mandarin having
determined that the other should enter first. Undoubtedly Ling, who
was the more powerful of the two, would have conferred this courteous
distinction upon Li Keen had not that person summoned to his side
certain attendants who succeeded in frustrating Ling in his high-minded
intentions, and in forcing him through the doorway in spite of his
conscientious protests against the unsurmountable obligation under which
the circumstance placed him.
Conversing in this intellectual and dignified manner, the strokes of
the gong passed unheeded; tea had been brought into their presence many
times, and night had fallen before the Mandarin allowed Ling to refer
to the matter which had brought him to the place, and to present his
written papers and seals.
“It is a valuable privilege to have so intelligent a person as the
illustrious Ling occupying this position,” remarked the Mandarin, as he
returned the papers; “and not less so on account of the one who
preceded him proving himself to be a person of feeble attainments and an
unendurable deficiency of resource.”
“To one with the all-knowing Li Keen’s mental acquisitions, such a
person must indeed have become excessively offensive,” replied Ling
delicately; “for, as it is truly said, ‘Although there exist many
thousand subjects for elegant conversation, there are persons who cannot
meet a cripple without talking about feet.’”
“He to whom I have referred was such a one,” said Li Keen, appreciating
with an expression of countenance the fitness of Ling’s proverb. “He was
totally inadequate to the requirements of his position; for he possessed
no military knowledge, and was placed in command by those at Peking as
a result of his taking a high place at one of the examinations. But more
than this, although his three years of service were almost completed,
I was quite unsuccessful in convincing him that an unseemly degradation
probably awaited him unless he could furnish me with the means with
which to propitiate the persons in authority at Peking. This he
neglected to do with obstinate pertinacity, which compelled this person
to inquire within himself whether one of so little discernment could be
trusted with an important and arduous office. After much deliberation,
this person came to the decision that the Commander in question was not
a fit person, and he therefore reported him to the Imperial Board
of Punishment at Peking as one subject to frequent and periodical
eccentricities, and possessed of less than ordinary intellect. In
consequence of this act of justice, the Commander was degraded to the
rank of common bowman, and compelled to pay a heavy fine in addition.”
“It was a just and enlightened conclusion of the affair,” said Ling, in
spite of a deep feeling of no enthusiasm, “and one which surprisingly
bore out your own prophecy in the matter.”
“It was an inspired warning to persons who should chance to be in a like
position at any time,” replied Li Keen. “So grasping and corrupt are
those who control affairs in Peking that I have no doubt they would
scarcely hesitate in debasing even one so immaculate as the exceptional
Ling, and placing him in some laborious and ill-paid civil department
should he not accede to their extortionate demands.”
This suggestion did not carry with it the unpleasurable emotions which
the Mandarin anticipated it would. The fierce instincts which had been
aroused within Ling by the incident in the cypress wood had died out,
while his lamentable ignorance of military affairs was ever before his
mind. These circumstances, together with his naturally gentle habits,
made him regard such a degradation rather favourably than otherwise.
He was meditating within himself whether he could arrange such a course
without delay when the Mandarin continued:
“That, however, is a possibility which is remote to the extent of at
least two or three years; do not, therefore, let so unpleasing a thought
cast darkness upon your brows or remove the unparalleled splendour of
so refined an occasion... Doubtless the accomplished Ling is a master of
the art of chess-play, for many of our most thoughtful philosophers have
declared war to be nothing but such a game; let this slow-witted and
cumbersome person have an opportunity, therefore, of polishing his
declining facilities by a pleasant and dignified encounter.”