“‘Oh, Lee,’ exclaimed the greatly-disappointed maiden when her lover had

explained to her the nature of the arrangement--for in her unassuming

admiration of the noble qualities of Lee she had anticipated that Chan

Hung would at once have received him with ceremonious embraces and

assurances of his permanent affection--‘how unendurable a state of

things is this in which we have become involved! Far removed from this

one’s anticipations was the thought of becoming inalienably associated

with that outrageous person Pe-tsing, or of entering upon an existence

which will necessitate a feigned admiration of his really unpresentable

efforts. Yet in such a manner must the entire circumstance complete its

course unless some ingenious method of evading it can be discovered in

the meantime. Alas, my beloved one! the occupation of ensnaring winged

insects is indeed an alluring one, but as far as this person has

observed, it is also exceedingly unproductive of taels. Could not some

more expeditious means of enriching yourself be discovered? Frequently

has the unnoticed but nevertheless very attentive Lila heard her father

and the round-bodied ones who visit him speak of exploits which seem

to consist of assuming the shapes of certain wild animals, and in that

guise appearing from time to time at the place of exchange within

the city walls. As this form of entertainment is undoubtedly very

remunerative in its results, could not the versatile and ready-witted

Lee conceal himself within the skin of a bear, or some other untamed

beast, and in this garb, joining them unperceived, play an appointed

part and receive a just share of the reward?’

“‘The result of such an enterprise might, if the matter chanced to take

an unforeseen development, prove of a very doubtful nature,’ replied

Lee Sing, to whom, indeed, the proposed venture appeared in a somewhat

undignified light, although, with refined consideration, he withheld

such a thought from Lila, who had proposed it for him, and also

confessed that her usually immaculate father had taken part in such an

exhibition. ‘Nevertheless, do not permit the dark shadow of an inward

cloud to reflect itself upon your almost invariably amiable countenance,

for this person has become possessed of a valuable internal suggestion

which, although he has hitherto neglected, being content with a small

but assured competency, would doubtless bring together a serviceable

number of taels if rightly utilized.’

“‘Greatly does this person fear that the valuable internal suggestion

of Lee Sing will weigh but lightly in the commercial balance against

the very rapidly executed pictures of Pe-tsing,’ said Lila, who had not

fully recalled from her mind a disturbing emotion that Lee would

have been well advised to have availed himself of her ingenious and

well-thought-out suggestion. ‘But of what does the matter consist?’

“‘It is the best explained by a recital of the circumstances leading up

to it,’ said Lee. ‘Upon an occasion when this person was passing through

the streets of Fow Hou, there gathered around him a company of those who

had, on previous occasions, beheld his exceptional powers of hurtling

himself through the air in an upward direction, praying that he would

again delight their senses by a similar spectacle. Not being unwilling

to afford those estimable persons of the amusement they desired, this

one, without any elaborate show of affected hesitancy, put himself

into the necessary position, and would without doubt have risen

uninterruptedly almost into the Middle Air, had he not, in making the

preparatory movements, placed his left foot upon an over-ripe wampee

which lay unperceived on the ground. In consequence of this really

blameworthy want of caution the entire manner and direction of this

short-sighted individual’s movements underwent a sudden and complete

change, so that to those who stood around it appeared as though he were

making a well-directed endeavour to penetrate through the upper surface

of the earth. This unexpected display had the effect of removing the

gravity of even the most aged and severe-minded persons present, and for

the space of some moments the behaviour and positions of those who stood

around were such that they were quite unable to render any assistance,

greatly as they doubtless wished to do so. Being in this manner allowed

a period for inward reflexion of a very concentrated order, it arose

within this one’s mind that at every similar occurrence which he had

witnessed, those who observed the event had been seized in a like

fashion, being very excessively amused. The fact was made even more

undoubted by the manner of behaving of an exceedingly stout and

round-faced person, who had not been present from the beginning, but who

was affected to a most incredible extent when the details, as they had

occurred, were made plain to him, he declaring, with many references to

the Sacred Dragon and the Seven Walled Temple at Peking, that he would

willingly have contributed a specified number of taels rather than

have missed the diversion. When at length this person reached his own

chamber, he diligently applied himself to the task of carrying into

practical effect the suggestion which had arisen in his mind. By an

arrangement of transparent glasses and reflecting surfaces--which, were

it not for a well-defined natural modesty, he would certainly be tempted

to describe as highly ingenious--he ultimately succeeded in bringing

about the effect he desired.’

“With these words Lee put into Lila’s hands an object which closely

resembled the contrivances by which those who are not sufficiently

powerful to obtain positions near the raised platform, in the Halls of

Celestial Harmony, are nevertheless enabled to observe the complexions

and attire of all around them. Regulating it by means of a hidden

spring, he requested her to follow closely the actions of a

heavily-burdened passerby who was at that moment some little distance

beyond them. Scarcely had Lila raised the glass to her eyes than she

became irresistibly amused to a most infectious degree, greatly to the

satisfaction of Lee, who therein beheld the realization of his hopes.

Not for the briefest space of time would she permit the object to pass

from her, but directed it at every person who came within her sight,

with frequent and unfeigned exclamations of wonder and delight.

“‘How pleasant and fascinating a device is this!’ exclaimed Lila at

length. ‘By what means is so diverting and gravity-removing a result

obtained?’

“‘Further than that it is the concentration of much labour of

continually trying with glasses and reflecting surfaces, this person is

totally unable to explain it,’ replied Lee. ‘The chief thing, however,

is that at whatever moving object it is directed--no matter whether a

person so observed is being carried in a chair, riding upon an animal,

or merely walking--at a certain point he has every appearance of being

unexpectedly hurled to the ground in a most violent and mirth-provoking

manner. Would not the stout and round-faced one, who would cheerfully

have contributed a certain number of taels to see this person manifest a

similar exhibition, unhesitatingly lay out that sum to secure the means

of so gratifying his emotions whenever he felt the desire, even with

the revered persons of the most dignified ones in the Empire? Is there,

indeed, a single person between the Wall and the Bitter Waters on the

South who is so devoid of ambition that he would miss the opportunity of

subjecting, as it were, perhaps even the sacred Emperor himself to the

exceptional feat?’

“‘The temptation to possess one would inevitably prove overwhelming to

any person of ordinary intelligence,’ admitted Lila. ‘Yet, in spite of

this one’s unassumed admiration for the contrivance, internal doubts

regarding the ultimate happiness of the two persons who are now

discussing the matter again attack her. She recollects, somewhat dimly,

an almost forgotten, but nevertheless, very unassailable proverb, which

declares that more contentment of mind can assuredly be obtained from

the unexpected discovery of a tael among the folds of a discarded

garment than could, in the most favourable circumstances, ensue from

the well-thought-out construction of a new and hitherto unknown

device. Furthermore, although the span of a year may seem unaccountably

protracted when persons who reciprocate engaging sentiments are

parted, yet when the acceptance or refusal of Pe-tsing’s undesirable

pledging-gifts hangs upon the accomplishment of a remote and not very

probable object within that period, it becomes as a breath of wind

passing through an autumn forest.’

“Since the day when Lila and Lee had sat together side by side, and

conversed in this unrestrained and irreproachable manner, the great

sky-lantern had many times been obscured for a period. Only an

insignificant portion of the year remained, yet the affairs of Lee Sing

were in no more prosperous a condition than before, nor had he found an

opportunity to set aside any store of taels. Each day the unsupportable

Pe-tsing became more and more obtrusive and self-conceited, even to

the extent of throwing far into the air coins of insignificant value

whenever he chanced to pass Lee in the street, at the same time urging

him to leap after them and thereby secure at least one or two pieces of

money against the day of calculating. In a similar but entirely opposite

fashion, Lila and Lee experienced the acutest pangs of an ever-growing

despair, until their only form of greeting consisted in gazing into each

other’s eyes with a soul-benumbing expression of self-reproach.

“Yet at this very time, when even the natural and unalterable powers

seemed to be conspiring against the success of Lee’s modest and

inoffensive hopes, an event was taking place which was shortly to

reverse the entire settled arrangement of persons and affairs, and

involved Fow Hou in a very inextricable state of uncertainty. For, not

to make a pretence of concealing a matter which has been already in part

revealed, the Mandarin Chan Hung had by this time determined to act in

the manner which Ming-hi had suggested; so that on a certain morning

Lee Sing was visited by two persons, bearing between them a very weighty

sack of taels, who also conveyed to him the fact that a like amount

would be deposited within his door at the end of each succeeding seven

days. Although Lee’s occupation had in the past been very meagrely

rewarded, either by taels or by honour, the circumstance which resulted

in his now receiving so excessively large a sum is not made clear until

the detail of Ming-hi’s scheme is closely examined. The matter then

becomes plain, for it had been suggested by that person that the most

proficient in any occupation should be rewarded to a certain extent,

and the least proficient to another stated extent, the original amounts

being reversed. When those engaged by Chang Hung to draw up the various

rates came to the profession of ensnaring winged insects, however, they

discovered that Lee Sing was the only one of that description in Fow

Hou, so that it became necessary in consequence to allot him a double

portion, one amount as the most proficient, and a much larger amount as

the least proficient.

“It is unnecessary now to follow the not altogether satisfactory

condition of affairs which began to exist in Fow Hou as soon as the

scheme was put into operation. The full written papers dealing with the

matter are in the Hall of Public Reference at Peking, and can be seen by

any person on the payment of a few taels to everyone connected with

the establishment. Those who found their possessions reduced thereby

completely overlooked the obvious justice of the arrangement, and

immediately began to take most severe measures to have the order put

aside; while those who suddenly and unexpectedly found themselves

raised to positions of affluence tended to the same end by conducting

themselves in a most incapable and undiscriminating manner. And during

the entire period that this state of things existed in Fow Hou the

really contemptible Ming-hi continually followed Chan Hung about from

place to place, spreading out his feet towards him, and allowing himself

to become openly amused to a most unseemly extent.

“Chief among those who sought to have the original manner of rewarding

persons again established was the picture-maker, Pe-tsing, who now found

himself in a condition of most abject poverty, so unbearable, indeed,

that he frequently went by night, carrying a lantern, in the hope that

he might discover some of the small pieces of money which he had been

accustomed to throw into the air on meeting Lee Sing. To his pangs of

hunger was added the fear that he would certainly lose Lila, so that

from day to day he redoubled his efforts, and in the end, by using false

statements and other artifices of a questionable nature, the party which

he led was successful in obtaining the degradation of Chan Hung and his

dismissal from office, together with an entire reversal of all his plans

and enactments.

“On the last day of the year which Chan Hung had appointed as the period

of test for his daughter’s suitors, the person in question was seated

in a chamber of his new abode--a residence of unassuming appearance but

undoubted comfort--surrounded by Lila and Lee, when the hanging curtains

were suddenly flung aside, and Pe-tsing, followed by two persons of low

rank bearing sacks of money, appeared among them.

“‘Chan Hung,’ he said at length, ‘in the past events arose which

compelled this person to place himself against you in your official

position. Nevertheless, he has always maintained towards you personally

an unchanging affection, and understanding full well that you are one of

those who maintain their spoken word in spite of all happenings, he has

now come to exhibit the taels which he has collected together, and to

claim the fulfilment of your deliberate promise.’

“With these words the commonplace picture-maker poured forth the

contents of the sacks, and stood looking at Lila in a most confident and

unprepossessing manner.

“‘Pe-tsing,’ replied Chan Hung, rising from his couch and speaking in so

severe and impressive a voice that the two servants of Pe-tsing at once

fled in great apprehension, ‘this person has also found it necessary, in

his official position, to oppose you; but here the similarity ends,

for, on his part, he has never felt towards you the remotest degree of

affection. Nevertheless, he is always desirous, as you say, that persons

should regard their spoken word, and as you seem to hold a promise

from the Chief Mandarin of Fow Hou regarding marriage-gifts towards

his daughter, he would advise you to go at once to that person.

A misunderstanding has evidently arisen, for the one whom you are

addressing is merely Chan Hung, and the words spoken by the Mandarin

have no sort of interest for him--indeed, he understands that all that

person’s acts have been reversed, so that he fails to see how anyone

at all can regard you and your claim in other than a gravity-removing

light. Furthermore, the maiden in question is now definitely and

irretrievably pledged to this faithful and successful one by my side,

who, as you will doubtless be gracefully overjoyed to learn, has

recently disposed of a most ingenious and diverting contrivance for an

enormous number of taels, so many, indeed, that both the immediate and

the far-distant future of all the persons who are here before you are

now in no sort of doubt whatever.’

“At these words the three persons whom he had interrupted again turned

their attention to the matter before them; but as Pe-tsing walked away,

he observed, though he failed to understand the meaning, that they all

raised certain objects to their eyes, and at once became amused to a

most striking and uncontrollable degree.”

V.

THE CONFESSION OF KAI LUNG

Related by himself at Wu-whei when other matter failed him.

As Kai Lung, the story-teller, unrolled his mat and selected, with grave

deliberation, the spot under the mulberry-tree which would the longest

remain sheltered from the sun’s rays, his impassive eye wandered round

the thin circle of listeners who had been drawn together by his uplifted

voice, with a glance which, had it expressed his actual thoughts, would

have betrayed a keen desire that the assembly should be composed of

strangers rather than of his most consistent patrons, to whom his stock

of tales was indeed becoming embarrassingly familiar. Nevertheless, when

he began there was nothing in his voice but a trace of insufficiently

restrained triumph, such as might be fitly assumed by one who has

discovered and makes known for the first time a story by the renowned

historian Lo Cha.

“The adventures of the enlightened and nobly-born Yuin-Pel--”

“Have already thrice been narrated within Wu-whei by the versatile but

exceedingly uninventive Kai Lung,” remarked Wang Yu placidly. “Indeed,

has there not come to be a saying by which an exceptionally frugal

host’s rice, having undoubtedly seen the inside of the pot many times,

is now known in this town as Kai-Pel?”

“Alas!” exclaimed Kai Lung, “well was this person warned of Wu-whei

in the previous village, as a place of desolation and excessively

bad taste, whose inhabitants, led by an evil-minded maker of very

commonplace pipes, named Wang Yu, are unable to discriminate in all

matters not connected with the cooking of food and the evasion of just

debts. They at Shan Tzu hung on to my cloak as I strove to leave them,

praying that I would again entrance their ears with what they termed the

melodious word-music of this person’s inimitable version of the inspired

story of Yuin-Pel.”

“Truly the story of Yuin-Pel is in itself excellent,” interposed the

conciliatory Hi Seng; “and Kai Lung’s accomplishment of having three

times repeated it here without deviating in the particular of a single

word from the first recital stamps him as a story-teller of no ordinary

degree. Yet the saying ‘Although it is desirable to lose persistently

when playing at squares and circles with the broad-minded and sagacious

Emperor, it is none the less a fact that the observance of this

etiquette deprives the intellectual diversion of much of its interest

for both players,’ is no less true today than when the all knowing H’sou

uttered it.”

“They well said--they of Shan Tzu--that the people of Wu-whei were

intolerably ignorant and of low descent,” continued Kai Lung, without

heeding the interruption; “that although invariably of a timorous

nature, even to the extent of retiring to the woods on the approach of

those who select bowmen for the Imperial army, all they require in a

story is that it shall be garnished with deeds of bloodshed and violence

to the exclusion of the higher qualities of well-imagined metaphors and

literary style which alone constitute true excellence.”

“Yet it has been said,” suggested Hi Seng, “that the inimitable Kai

Lung can so mould a narrative in the telling that all the emotions

are conveyed therein without unduly disturbing the intellects of the

hearers.”

“O amiable Hi Seng,” replied Kai Lung with extreme affability,

“doubtless you are the most expert of water-carriers, and on a hot

and dusty day, when the insatiable desire of all persons is towards a

draught of unusual length without much regard to its composition, the

sight of your goat-skins is indeed a welcome omen; yet when in the

season of Cold White Rains you chance to meet the belated chair-carrier

who has been reluctantly persuaded into conveying persons beyond the

limit of the city, the solitary official watchman who knows that his

chief is not at hand, or a returning band of those who make a practise

of remaining in the long narrow rooms until they are driven forth at a

certain gong-stroke, can you supply them with the smallest portion of

that invigorating rice spirit for which alone they crave? From this

simple and homely illustration, specially conceived to meet the

requirements of your stunted and meagre understanding, learn not to

expect both grace and thorns from the willow-tree. Nevertheless, your

very immature remarks on the art of story-telling are in no degree more

foolish than those frequently uttered by persons who make a living by

such a practice; in proof of which this person will relate to the select

and discriminating company now assembled an entirely new and unrecorded

story--that, indeed, of the unworthy, but frequently highly-rewarded Kai

Lung himself.”

“The story of Kai Lung!” exclaimed Wang Yu. “Why not the story of Ting,

the sightless beggar, who has sat all his life outside the Temple of

Miraculous Cures? Who is Kai Lung, that he should have a story? Is he

not known to us all here? Is not his speech that of this Province, his

food mean, his arms and legs unshaven? Does he carry a sword or wear

silk raiment? Frequently have we seen him fatigued with journeying; many

times has he arrived destitute of money; nor, on those occasions when a

newly-appointed and unnecessarily officious Mandarin has commanded

him to betake himself elsewhere and struck him with a rod has Kai Lung

caused the stick to turn into a deadly serpent and destroy its master,

as did the just and dignified Lu Fei. How, then, can Kai Lung have a

story that is not also the story of Wang Yu and Hi Seng, and all others

here?”

“Indeed, if the refined and enlightened Wang Yu so decides, it must

assuredly be true,” said Kai Lung patiently; “yet (since even trifles

serve to dispel the darker thoughts of existence) would not the

history of so small a matter as an opium pipe chain his intelligent

consideration? such a pipe, for example, as this person beheld only

today exposed for sale, the bowl composed of the finest red clay,

delicately baked and fashioned, the long bamboo stem smoother than the

sacred tooth of the divine Buddha, the spreading support patiently and

cunningly carved with scenes representing the Seven Joys, and the Tenth

Hell of unbelievers.”

“Ah!” exclaimed Wang Yu eagerly, “it is indeed as you say, a Mandarin

among masterpieces. That pipe, O most unobserving Kai Lung, is the work

of this retiring and superficial person who is now addressing you, and,

though the fact evidently escaped your all-seeing glance, the place

where it is exposed is none other than his shop of ‘The Fountain of

Beauty,’ which you have on many occasions endowed with your honourable

presence.”

“Doubtless the carving is the work of the accomplished Wang Yu, and the

fitting together,” replied Kai Lung; “but the materials for so refined

and ornamental a production must of necessity have been brought many

thousand li; the clay perhaps from the renowned beds of Honan, the wood

from Peking, and the bamboo from one of the great forests of the North.”

“For what reason?” said Wang Yu proudly. “At this person’s very door

is a pit of red clay, purer and infinitely more regular than any to

be found at Honan; the hard wood of Wu-whei is extolled among carvers

throughout the Empire, while no bamboo is straighter or more smooth than

that which grows in the neighbouring woods.”

“O most inconsistent Wang Yu!” cried the story-teller, “assuredly a very

commendable local pride has dimmed your usually penetrating eyesight.

Is not the clay pit of which you speak that in which you fashioned

exceedingly unsymmetrical imitations of rat-pies in your childhood? How,

then, can it be equal to those of Honan, which you have never seen?

In the dark glades of these woods have you not chased the gorgeous

butterfly, and, in later years, the no less gaily attired maidens of

Wu-whei in the entrancing game of Kiss in the Circle? Have not the

bamboo-trees to which you have referred provided you with the ideal

material wherewith to roof over those cunningly-constructed pits into

which it has ever been the chief delight of the young and audacious to

lure dignified and unnaturally stout Mandarins? All these things you

have seen and used ever since your mother made a successful offering to

the Goddess Kum-Fa. How, then, can they be even equal to the products of

remote Honan and fabulous Peking? Assuredly the generally veracious Wang

Yu speaks this time with closed eyes and will, upon mature reflexion,

eat his words.”

The silence was broken by a very aged man who arose from among the

bystanders.

“Behold the length of this person’s pigtail,” he exclaimed, “the

whiteness of his moustaches and the venerable appearance of his beard!

There is no more aged person present--if, indeed, there be such a one

in all the Province. It accordingly devolves upon him to speak in this

matter, which shall be as follows: The noble-minded and proficient Kai

Lung shall relate the story as he has proposed, and the garrulous Wang

Yu shall twice contribute to Kai Lung’s bowl when it is passed round,

once for himself and once for this person, in order that he may learn

either to be more discreet or more proficient in the art of aptly

replying.”

“The events which it is this person’s presumptuous intention to describe

to this large-hearted and providentially indulgent gathering,” began

Kai Lung, when his audience had become settled, and the wooden bowl had

passed to and fro among them, “did not occupy many years, although they

were of a nature which made them of far more importance than all the

remainder of his existence, thereby supporting the sage discernment of

the philosopher Wen-weng, who first made the observation that man is

greatly inferior to the meanest fly, inasmuch as that creature, although

granted only a day’s span of life, contrives during that period to

fulfil all the allotted functions of existence.

“Unutterably to the astonishment and dismay of this person and all those

connected with him (for several of the most expensive readers of the

future to be found in the Empire had declared that his life would be

marked by great events, his career a source of continual wonder, and his

death a misfortune to those who had dealings with him) his efforts to

take a degree at the public literary competitions were not attended with

any adequate success. In view of the plainly expressed advice of his

father it therefore became desirable that this person should turn his

attention to some other method of regaining the esteem of those upon

whom he was dependent for all the necessaries of existence. Not having

the means wherewith to engage in any form of commerce, and being

entirely ignorant of all matters save the now useless details of

attempting to pass public examinations, he reluctantly decided that he

was destined to become one of those who imagine and write out stories

and similar devices for printed leaves and books.

“This determination was favourably received, and upon learning it, this

person’s dignified father took him aside, and with many assurances of

regard presented to him a written sentence, which, he said, would be of

incomparable value to one engaged in a literary career, and should

in fact, without any particular qualifications, insure an honourable

competency. He himself, he added, with what at the time appeared to

this one as an unnecessary regard for detail, having taken a very

high degree, and being in consequence appointed to a distinguished and

remunerative position under the Board of Fines and Tortures, had never

made any use of it.

“The written sentence, indeed, was all that it had been pronounced. It

had been composed by a remote ancestor, who had spent his entire life in

crystallizing all his knowledge and experience into a few written lines,

which as a result became correspondingly precious. It defined in a very

original and profound manner several undisputable principles, and was so

engagingly subtle in its manner of expression that the most superficial

person was irresistibly thrown into a deep inward contemplation upon

reading it. When it was complete, the person who had contrived this

ingenious masterpiece, discovering by means of omens that he still had

ten years to live, devoted each remaining year to the task of reducing

the sentence by one word without in any way altering its meaning. This

unapproachable example of conciseness found such favour in the eyes

of those who issue printed leaves that as fast as this person could

inscribe stories containing it they were eagerly purchased; and had it

not been for a very incapable want of foresight on this narrow-minded

individual’s part, doubtless it would still be affording him an

agreeable and permanent means of living.

“Unquestionably the enlightened Wen-weng was well acquainted with the

subject when he exclaimed, ‘Better a frugal dish of olives flavoured

with honey than the most sumptuously devised puppy-pie of which the

greater portion is sent forth in silver-lined boxes and partaken of

by others.’ At that time, however, this versatile saying--which so

gracefully conveys the truth of the undeniable fact that what a person

possesses is sufficient if he restrain his mind from desiring

aught else--would have been lightly treated by this self-conceited

story-teller even if his immature faculties had enabled him fully to

understand the import of so profound and well-digested a remark.

“At that time Tiao Ts’un was undoubtedly the most beautiful maiden in

all Peking. So frequently were the verses describing her habits and

appearances affixed in the most prominent places of the city, that many

persons obtained an honourable livelihood by frequenting those spots

and disposing of the sacks of written papers which they collected to

merchants who engaged in that commerce. Owing to the fame attained by

his written sentence, this really very much inferior being had many

opportunities of meeting the incomparable maiden Tiao at flower-feasts,

melon-seed assemblies, and those gatherings where persons of both sexes

exhibit themselves in revolving attitudes, and are permitted to embrace

openly without reproach; whereupon he became so subservient to her

charms and virtues that he lost no opportunity of making himself utterly

unendurable to any who might chance to speak to, or even gaze upon, this

Heaven-sent creature.

“So successful was this person in his endeavour to meet the sublime

Tiao and to gain her conscientious esteem that all emotions of prudence

forsook him, or it would soon have become apparent even to his enfeebled

understanding that such consistent good fortune could only be the work

of unforgiving and malignant spirits whose ill-will he had in some way

earned, and who were luring him on in order that they might accomplish

his destruction. That object was achieved on a certain evening when this

person stood alone with Tiao upon an eminence overlooking the city and

watched the great sky-lantern rise from behind the hills. Under these

delicate and ennobling influences he gave speech to many very ornamental

and refined thoughts which arose within his mind concerning the graceful

brilliance of the light which was cast all around, yet notwithstanding

which a still more exceptional and brilliant light was shining in his

own internal organs by reason of the nearness of an even purer and more

engaging orb. There was no need, this person felt, to hide even his most

inside thoughts from the dignified and sympathetic being at his side, so

without hesitation he spoke--in what he believes even now must have been

a very decorative manner--of the many thousand persons who were then

wrapped in sleep, of the constantly changing lights which appeared in

the city beneath, and of the vastness which everywhere lay around.

“‘O Kai Lung,’ exclaimed the lovely Tiao, when this person had made an

end of speaking, ‘how expertly and in what a proficient manner do you

express yourself, uttering even the sentiments which this person has

felt inwardly, but for which she has no words. Why, indeed, do you not

inscribe them in a book?’

“Under her elevating influence it had already occurred to this

illiterate individual that it would be a more dignified and, perhaps,

even a more profitable course for him to write out and dispose of, to

those who print such matters, the versatile and high-minded expressions

which now continually formed his thoughts, rather than be dependent upon

the concise sentence for which, indeed, he was indebted to the wisdom of

a remote ancestor. Tiao’s spoken word fully settled his determination,

so that without delay he set himself to the task of composing a story

which should omit the usual sentence, but should contain instead a large

number of his most graceful and diamond-like thoughts. So engrossed did

this near-sighted and superficial person become in the task (which daily

seemed to increase rather than lessen as new and still more sublime

images arose within his mind) that many months passed before the

matter was complete. In the end, instead of a story, it had assumed the

proportions of an important and many-volumed book; while Tiao had in the

meantime accepted the wedding gifts of an objectionable and excessively

round-bodied individual, who had amassed an inconceivable number of

taels by inducing persons to take part in what at first sight appeared

to be an ingenious but very easy competition connected with the order in

which certain horses should arrive at a given and clearly defined spot.

By that time, however, this unduly sanguine story-teller had become

completely entranced in his work, and merely regarded Tiao-Ts’un as a

Heaven-sent but no longer necessary incentive to his success. With

every hope, therefore, he went forth to dispose of his written leaves,

confident of finding some very wealthy person who would be in a

condition to pay him the correct value of the work.

“At the end of two years this somewhat disillusionized but still

undaunted person chanced to hear of a benevolent and unassuming body of

men who made a habit of issuing works in which they discerned merit,

but which, nevertheless, others were unanimous in describing as ‘of no

good.’ Here this person was received with gracious effusion, and

being in a position to impress those with whom he was dealing with his

undoubted knowledge of the subject, he finally succeeded in making a

very advantageous arrangement by which he was to pay one-half of the

number of taels expended in producing the work, and to receive in return

all the profits which should result from the undertaking. Those who

were concerned in the matter were so engagingly impressed with the

incomparable literary merit displayed in the production that they

counselled a great number of copies being made ready in order, as they

said, that this person should not lose by there being any delay

when once the accomplishment became the one topic of conversation in

tea-houses and yamens. From this cause it came about that the matter of

taels to be expended was much greater than had been anticipated at the

beginning, so that when the day arrived on which the volumes were to

be sent forth this person found that almost his last piece of money had

disappeared.

“Alas! how small a share has a person in the work of controlling his own

destiny. Had only the necessarily penurious and now almost degraded Kai

Lung been born a brief span before the great writer Lo Kuan Chang, his

name would have been received with every mark of esteem from one end of

the Empire to the other, while taels and honourable decorations would

have been showered upon him. For the truth, which could no longer be

concealed, revealed the fact that this inopportune individual possessed

a mind framed in such a manner that his thoughts had already been the

thoughts of the inspired Lo Kuan, who, as this person would not be so

presumptuous as to inform this ornamental and well-informed gathering,

was the most ingenious and versatile-minded composer of written words

that this Empire--and therefore the entire world--has seen, as, indeed,

his honourable title of ‘The Many-hued Mandarin Duck of the Yang-tse’

plainly indicates.

“Although this self-opinionated person had frequently been greatly

surprised himself during the writing of his long work by the brilliance

and manysidedness of the thoughts and metaphors which arose in his mind

without conscious effort, it was not until the appearance of the printed

leaves which make a custom of warning persons against being persuaded

into buying certain books that he definitely understood how all these

things had been fully expressed many dynasties ago by the all-knowing

Lo Kuan Chang, and formed, indeed, the great national standard of

unapproachable excellence. Unfortunately, this person had been so deeply

engrossed all his life in literary pursuits that he had never found an

opportunity to glance at the works in question, or he would have escaped

the embarrassing position in which he now found himself.

“It was with a hopeless sense of illness of ease that this unhappy one

reached the day on which the printed leaves already alluded to would

make known their deliberate opinion of his writing, the extremity of his

hope being that some would at least credit him with honourable motives,

and perhaps a knowledge that if the inspired Lo Kuan Chan had never

been born the entire matter might have been brought to a very different

conclusion. Alas! only one among the many printed leaves which

made reference to the venture contained any words of friendship or

encouragement. This benevolent exception was sent forth from a city

in the extreme Northern Province of the Empire, and contained many

inspiring though delicately guarded messages of hope for the one to whom

they gracefully alluded as ‘this undoubtedly youthful, but nevertheless,

distinctly promising writer of books.’ While admitting that altogether

they found the production undeniably tedious, they claimed to have

discovered indications of an obvious talent, and therefore they

unhesitatingly counselled the person in question to take courage at the

prospect of a moderate competency which was certainly within his grasp

if he restrained his somewhat over-ambitious impulses and closely

observed the simple subjects and manner of expression of their own Chang

Chow, whose ‘Lines to a Wayside Chrysanthemum,’ ‘Mongolians who Have,’

and several other composed pieces, they then set forth. Although it

became plain that the writer of this amiably devised notice was, like

this incapable person, entirely unacquainted with the masterpieces of

Lo Kuan Chang, yet the indisputable fact remained that, entirely on

its merit, the work had been greeted with undoubted enthusiasm, so that

after purchasing many examples of the refined printed leaf containing

it, this person sat far into the night continually reading over the one

unprejudiced and discriminating expression.

“All the other printed leaves displayed a complete absence of good

taste in dealing with the matter. One boldly asserted that the entire

circumstance was the outcome of a foolish jest or wager on the part of

a person who possessed a million taels; another predicted that it was a

cunning and elaborately thought-out method of obtaining the attention of

the people on the part of certain persons who claimed to vend a reliable

and fragrantly-scented cleansing substance. The _Valley of Hoang Rose

Leaves and Sweetness_ hoped, in a spirit of no sincerity, that the

ingenious Kai Lung would not rest on his tea-leaves, but would soon

send forth an equally entertaining amended example of the _Sayings of

Confucious_ and other sacred works, while the _Pure Essence of the Seven

Days’ Happenings_ merely printed side by side portions from the two

books under the large inscription, ‘IS THERE REALLY ANY NEED FOR US TO

EXPRESS OURSELVES MORE CLEARLY?’

“The disappointment both as regards public esteem and taels--for, after

the manner in which the work had been received by those who advise

on such productions, not a single example was purchased--threw this

ill-destined individual into a condition of most unendurable depression,

from which he was only aroused by a remarkable example of the unfailing

wisdom of the proverb which says ‘Before hastening to secure a possible

reward of five taels by dragging an unobservant person away from a

falling building, examine well his features lest you find, when too

late, that it is one to whom you are indebted for double that amount.’

Disappointed in the hope of securing large gains from the sale of his

great work, this person now turned his attention again to his former

means of living, only to find, however, that the discredit in which he

had become involved even attached itself to his concise sentence; for in

place of the remunerative and honourable manner in which it was formerly

received, it was now regarded on all hands with open suspicion. Instead

of meekly kow-towing to an evidently pre-arranged doom, the last

misfortune aroused this usually resigned story-teller to an ungovernable

frenzy. Regarding the accomplished but at the same time exceedingly

over-productive Lo Kuan Chang as the beginning of all his evils, he took

a solemn oath as a mark of disapproval that he had not been content to

inscribe on paper only half of his brilliant thoughts, leaving the other

half for the benefit of this hard-striving and equally well-endowed

individual, in which case there would have been a sufficiency of taels

and of fame for both.

“For a very considerable space of time this person could conceive no

method by which he might attain his object. At length, however, as

a result of very keen and subtle intellectual searching, and many

well-selected sacrifices, it was conveyed by means of a dream that

one very ingenious yet simple way was possible. The renowned and

universally-admired writings of the distinguished Lo Kuan for the most

part take their action within a few dynasties of their creator’s

own time: all that remained for this inventive person to accomplish,

therefore, was to trace out the entire matter, making the words and

speeches to proceed from the mouths of those who existed in still

earlier periods. By this crafty method it would at once appear as though

the not-too-original Lo Kuan had been indebted to one who came before

him for all his most subtle thoughts, and, in consequence, his tomb

would become dishonoured and his memory execrated. Without any delay

this person cheerfully set himself to the somewhat laborious task

before him. Lo Kuan’s well-known exclamation of the Emperor Tsing on the

battlefield of Shih-ho, ‘A sedan-chair! a sedan-chair! This person will

unhesitatingly exchange his entire and well-regulated Empire for such an

article,’ was attributed to an Emperor who lived several thousand years

before the treacherous and unpopular Tsing. The new matter of a no less

frequently quoted portion ran: ‘O nobly intentioned but nevertheless

exceedingly morose Tung-shin, the object before you is your

distinguished and evilly-disposed-of father’s honourably-inspired

demon,’ the change of a name effecting whatever alteration was

necessary; while the delicately-imagined speech beginning ‘The person

who becomes amused at matters resulting from double-edged knives has

assuredly never felt the effect of a well-directed blow himself’ was

taken from the mouth of one person and placed in that of one of his

remote ancestors. In such a manner, without in any great degree altering

the matter of Lo Kuan’s works, all the scenes and persons introduced

were transferred to much earlier dynasties than those affected by the

incomparable writer himself, the final effect being to give an air of

extreme unoriginality to his really undoubtedly genuine conceptions.

“Satisfied with his accomplishment, and followed by a hired person

of low class bearing the writings, which, by nature of the research

necessary in fixing the various dates and places so that even the wary

should be deceived, had occupied the greater part of a year, this now

fully confident story-teller--unmindful of the well-tried excellence of

the inspired saying, ‘Money is hundred-footed; upon perceiving a

tael lying apparently unobserved upon the floor, do not lose the time

necessary in stooping, but quickly place your foot upon it, for one

fails nothing in dignity thereby; but should it be a gold piece,

distrust all things, and valuing dignity but as an empty name, cast your

entire body upon it’--went forth to complete his great task of finally

erasing from the mind and records of the Empire the hitherto venerated

name of Lo Kuan Chang. Entering the place of commerce of the one who

seemed the most favourable for the purpose, he placed the facts as they

would in future be represented before him, explained the undoubtedly

remunerative fame that would ensue to all concerned in the enterprise

of sending forth the printed books in their new form, and, opening at a

venture the written leaves which he had brought with him, read out the

following words as an indication of the similarity of the entire work:

“‘_Whai-Keng_. Friends, Chinamen, labourers who are engaged in

agricultural pursuits, entrust to this person your acute and

well-educated ears;

“‘He has merely come to assist in depositing the body of Ko’ung in

the Family Temple, not for the purpose of making remarks about him

of a graceful and highly complimentary nature;

“‘The unremunerative actions of which persons may have been guilty

possess an exceedingly undesirable amount of endurance;

“‘The successful and well-considered almost invariably are

involved in a directly contrary course;

“‘This person desires nothing more than a like fate to await

Ko’ung.’

“When this one had read so far, he paused in order to give the other

an opportunity of breaking in and offering half his possessions to

be allowed to share in the undertaking. As he remained unaccountably

silent, however, an inelegant pause occurred which this person at length

broke by desiring an expressed opinion on the matter.

“‘O exceedingly painstaking, but nevertheless highly inopportune Kai

Lung,’ he replied at length, while in his countenance this person

read an expression of no-encouragement towards his venture, ‘all your

entrancing efforts do undoubtedly appear to attract the undesirable

attention of some spiteful and tyrannical demon. This closely-written

and elaborately devised work is in reality not worth the labour of a

single stroke, nor is there in all Peking a sender forth of printed

leaves who would encourage any project connected with its issue.’

“‘But the importance of such a fact as that which would clearly show the

hitherto venerated Lo Kuan Chang to be a person who passed off as his

own the work of an earlier one!’ cried this person in despair, well

knowing that the deliberately expressed opinion of the one before him

was a matter that would rule all others. ‘Consider the interest of the

discovery.’

“‘The interest would not demand more than a few lines in the ordinary

printed leaves,’ replied the other calmly. ‘Indeed, in a manner of

speaking, it is entirely a detail of no consequence whether or not the

sublime Lo Kuan ever existed. In reality his very commonplace name may

have been simply Lung; his inspired work may have been written a score

of dynasties before him by some other person, or they may have been

composed by the enlightened Emperor of the period, who desired to

conceal the fact, yet these matters would not for a moment engage the

interest of any ordinary passer-by. Lo Kuan Chang is not a person in the

ordinary expression; he is an embodiment of a distinguished and utterly

unassailable national institution. The Heaven-sent works with which

he is, by general consent, connected form the necessary unchangeable

standard of literary excellence, and remain for ever above rivalry and

above mistrust. For this reason the matter is plainly one which does not

interest this person.’

“In the course of a not uneventful existence this self-deprecatory

person has suffered many reverses and disappointments. During his youth

the high-minded Empress on one occasion stopped and openly complimented

him on the dignified outline presented by his body in profile, and when

he was relying upon this incident to secure him a very remunerative

public office, a jealous and powerful Mandarin substituted a somewhat

similar, though really very much inferior, person for him at the

interview which the Empress had commanded. Frequently in matters of

commerce which have appeared to promise very satisfactorily at the

beginning this person has been induced to entrust sums of money to

others, when he had hoped from the indications and the manner of

speaking that the exact contrary would be the case; and in one

instance he was released at a vast price from the torture dungeon in

Canton--where he had been thrown by the subtle and unconscientious

plots of one who could not relate stories in so accurate and unvarying

a manner as himself--on the day before that on which all persons were

freely set at liberty on account of exceptional public rejoicing. Yet in

spite of these and many other very unendurable incidents, this impetuous

and ill-starred being never felt so great a desire to retire to a

solitary place and there disfigure himself permanently as a mark of

his unfeigned internal displeasure, as on the occasion when he endured

extreme poverty and great personal inconvenience for an entire year in

order that he might take away face from the memory of a person who was

so placed that no one expressed any interest in the matter.

“Since then this very ill-clad and really necessitous person has

devoted himself to the honourable but exceedingly arduous and in general

unremunerative occupation of story-telling. To this he would add nothing

save that not infrequently a nobly-born and highly-cultured audience

is so entranced with his commonplace efforts to hold the attention,

especially when a story not hitherto known has been related, that in

order to afford it an opportunity of expressing its gratification, he

has been requested to allow another offering to be made by all persons

present at the conclusion of the entertainment.”

VI.

THE VENGEANCE OF TUNG FEL

For a period not to be measured by days or weeks the air of Ching-fow

had been as unrestful as that of the locust plains beyond the Great

Wall, for every speech which passed bore two faces, one fair to hear,

as a greeting, but the other insidiously speaking behind a screen, of

rebellion, violence, and the hope of overturning the fixed order of

events. With those whom they did not mistrust of treachery persons spoke

in low voices of definite plans, while at all times there might appear

in prominent places of the city skilfully composed notices setting

forth great wrongs and injustices towards which resignation and a lowly

bearing were outwardly counselled, yet with the same words cunningly

inflaming the minds, even of the patient, as no pouring out of

passionate thoughts and undignified threatenings could have done. Among

the people, unknown, unseen, and unsuspected, except to the proved ones

to whom they desired to reveal themselves, moved the agents of the Three

Societies. While to the many of Ching-fow nothing was desired or even

thought of behind the downfall of their own officials, and, chief of

all, the execution of the evil-minded and depraved Mandarin Ping Siang,

whose cruelties and extortions had made his name an object of wide and

deserved loathing, the agents only regarded the city as a bright spot in

the line of blood and fire which they were fanning into life from Peking

to Canton, and which would presumably burst forth and involve the entire

Empire.

Although it had of late become a plain fact, by reason of the manner

of behaving of the people, that events of a sudden and turbulent nature

could not long be restrained, yet outwardly there was no exhibition of

violence, not even to the length of resisting those whom Ping Siang sent

to enforce his unjust demands, chiefly because a well-founded whisper

had been sent round that nothing was to be done until Tung Fel should

arrive, which would not be until the seventh day in the month of Winged

Dragons. To this all persons agreed, for the more aged among them,

who, by virtue of their years, were also the formers of opinion in all

matters, called up within their memories certain events connected with

the two persons in question which appeared to give to Tung Fel the

privilege of expressing himself clearly when the matter of finally

dealing with the malicious and self-willed Mandarin should be engaged

upon.

Among the mountains which enclose Ching-fow on the southern side dwelt

a jade-seeker, who also kept goats. Although a young man and entirely

without relations, he had, by patient industry, contrived to collect

together a large flock of the best-formed and most prolific goats to be

found in the neighbourhood, all the money which he received in exchange

for jade being quickly bartered again for the finest animals which he

could obtain. He was dauntless in penetrating to the most inaccessible

parts of the mountains in search of the stone, unfailing in his skilful

care of the flock, in which he took much honourable pride, and on all

occasions discreet and unassumingly restrained in his discourse and

manner of life. Knowing this to be his invariable practice, it was with

emotions of an agreeable curiosity that on the seventh day of the month

of Winged Dragons those persons who were passing from place to place in

the city beheld this young man, Yang Hu, descending the mountain path

with unmistakable signs of profound agitation, and an entire absence of

prudent care. Following him closely to the inner square of the city, on

the continually expressed plea that they themselves had business in

that quarter, these persons observed Yang Hu take up a position of

unendurable dejection as he gazed reproachfully at the figure of the

all-knowing Buddha which surmounted the Temple where it was his custom

to sacrifice.

“Alas!” he exclaimed, lifting up his voice, when it became plain that

a large number of people was assembled awaiting his words, “to what end

does a person strive in this excessively evilly-regulated district? Or

is it that this obscure and ill-destined one alone is marked out as with

a deep white cross for humiliation and ruin? Father, and Sacred Temple

of Ancestral Virtues, wherein the meanest can repose their trust, he has

none; while now, being more destitute than the beggar at the gate, the

hope of honourable marriage and a robust family of sons is more remote

than the chance of finding the miracle-working Crystal Image which marks

the last footstep of the Pure One. Yesterday this person possessed no

secret store of silver or gold, nor had he knowledge of any special

amount of jade hidden among the mountains, but to his call there

responded four score goats, the most select and majestic to be found in

all the Province, of which, nevertheless, it was his yearly custom to

sacrifice one, as those here can testify, and to offer another as a duty

to the Yamen of Ping Siang, in neither case opening his eyes widely when

the hour for selecting arrived. Yet in what an unseemly manner is his

respectful piety and courteous loyalty rewarded! To-day, before this

person went forth on his usual quest, there came those bearing written

papers by which they claimed, on the authority of Ping Siang, the

whole of this person’s flock, as a punishment and fine for his not

contributing without warning to the Celebration of Kissing the Emperor’s

Face--the very obligation of such a matter being entirely unknown to

him. Nevertheless, those who came drove off this person’s entire

wealth, the desperately won increase of a life full of great toil and

uncomplainingly endured hardship, leaving him only his cave in the

rocks, which even the most grasping of many-handed Mandarins cannot

remove, his cloak of skins, which no beggar would gratefully receive,

and a bright and increasing light of deep hate scorching within his mind

which nothing but the blood of the obdurate extortioner can efficiently

quench. No protection of charms or heavily-mailed bowmen shall

avail him, for in his craving for just revenge this person will meet

witchcraft with a Heaven-sent cause and oppose an unsleeping subtlety

against strength. Therefore let not the innocent suffer through an

insufficient understanding, O Divine One, but direct the hand of your

faithful worshipper towards the heart that is proud in tyranny, and

holds as empty words the clearly defined promise of an all-seeing

justice.”

Scarcely had Yang Hu made an end of speaking before there happened an

event which could be regarded in no other light than as a direct answer

to his plainly expressed request for a definite sign. Upon the clear

air, which had become unnaturally still at Yang Hu’s words, as though

to remove any chance of doubt that this indeed was the requested answer,

came the loud beating of many very powerful brass gongs, indicating the

approach of some person of undoubted importance. In a very brief period

the procession reached the square, the gong-beaters being followed

by persons carrying banners, bowmen in armour, others bearing various

weapons and instruments of torture, slaves displaying innumerable

changes of raiment to prove the rank and consequence of their master,

umbrella carriers and fan wavers, and finally, preceded by incense

burners and surrounded by servants who cleared away all obstructions by

means of their formidable and heavily knotted lashes, the unworthy and

deceitful Mandarin Ping Siang, who sat in a silk-hung and elaborately

wrought chair, looking from side to side with gestures and expressions

of contempt and ill-restrained cupidity.

At the sign of this powerful but unscrupulous person all those who were

present fell upon their faces, leaving a broad space in their midst,

except Yang Hu, who stepped back into the shadow of a doorway, being

resolved that he would not prostrate himself before one whom Heaven had

pointed out as the proper object of his just vengeance.

When the chair of Ping Siang could no longer be observed in the

distance, and the sound of his many gongs had died away, all the persons

who had knelt at his approach rose to their feet, meeting each other’s

eyes with glances of assured and profound significance. At length there

stepped forth an exceedingly aged man, who was generally believed to

have the power of reading omens and forecasting futures, so that at his

upraised hand all persons became silent.

“Behold!” he exclaimed, “none can turn aside in doubt from the

deliberately pointed finger of Buddha. Henceforth, in spite of the

well-intentioned suggestions of those who would shield him under the

plea of exacting orders from high ones at Peking or extortions practised

by slaves under him of which he is ignorant, there can no longer be any

two voices concerning the guilty one. Yet what does the knowledge of

the cormorant’s cry avail the golden carp in the shallow waters of the

Yuen-Kiang? A prickly mormosa is an adequate protection against a naked

man armed only with a just cause, and a company of bowmen has been known

to quench an entire city’s Heaven-felt desire for retribution. This

person, and doubtless others also, would have experienced a more

heartfelt enthusiasm in the matter if the sublime and omnipotent

Buddha had gone a step further, and pointed out not only the one to

be punished, but also the instrument by which the destiny could be

prudently and effectively accomplished.”

From the mountain path which led to Yang Hu’s cave came a voice, like

an expressly devised reply to this speech. It was that of some person

uttering the “Chant of Rewards and Penalties”:

“How strong is the mountain sycamore!

“Its branches reach the Middle Air, and the eye of none can pierce

its foliage;

“It draws power and nourishment from all around, so that weeds

alone may flourish under its shadow.

“Robbers find safety within the hollow of its trunk; its branches

hide vampires and all manner of evil things which prey upon

the innocent;

“The wild boar of the forest sharpen their tusks against the bark,

for it is harder than flint, and the axe of the woodsman turns

back upon the striker.

“Then cries the sycamore, ‘Hail and rain have no power against me,

nor can the fiercest sun penetrate beyond my outside fringe;

“‘The man who impiously raises his hand against me falls by his

own stroke and weapon.

“‘Can there be a greater or a more powerful than this one?

Assuredly, _I_ am Buddha; let all things obey me.’

“Whereupon the weeds bow their heads, whispering among themselves,

‘The voice of the Tall One we hear, but not that of Buddha.

Indeed, it is doubtless as he says.’

“In his musk-scented Heaven Buddha laughs, and not deigning to

raise his head from the lap of the Phœnix Goddess, he thrusts

forth a stone which lies by his foot.

“Saying, ‘A god’s present for a god. Take it carefully, O

presumptuous Little One, for it is hot to the touch.’

“The thunderbolt falls and the mighty tree is rent in twain. ‘They

asked for my messenger,’ said the Pure One, turning again to

repose.

“_Lo, he comes_!”

With the last spoken word there came into the sight of those who were

collected together a person of stern yet engaging appearance. His hands

and face were the colour of mulberry stain by long exposure to the sun,

while his eyes looked forth like two watch-fires outside a wolf-haunted

camp. His long pigtail was tangled with the binding tendrils of the

forest, and damp with the dew of an open couch. His apparel was in no

way striking or brilliant, yet he strode with the dignity and air of a

high official, pushing before him a covered box upon wheels.

“It is Tung Fel!” cried many who stood there watching his approach,

in tones which showed those who spoke to be inspired by a variety of

impressive emotions. “Undoubtedly this is the seventh day of the month

of Winged Dragons, and, as he specifically stated would be the case, lo!

he has come.”

Few were the words of greeting which Tung Fel accorded even to the most

venerable of those who awaited him.

“This person has slept, partaken of fruit and herbs, and devoted an

allotted time to inward contemplation,” he said briefly. “Other and

more weighty matters than the exchange of dignified compliments and the

admiration of each other’s profiles remain to be accomplished. What, for

example, is the significance of the written parchment which is displayed

in so obtrusive a manner before our eyes? Bring it to this person

without delay.”

At these words all those present followed Tung Fel’s gaze with

astonishment, for conspicuously displayed upon the wall of the Temple

was a written notice which all joined in asserting had not been there

the moment before, though no man had approached the spot. Nevertheless

it was quickly brought to Tung Fel, who took it without any fear or

hesitation and read aloud the words which it contained.

“TO THE CUSTOM-RESPECTING PERSONS OF CHING-FOW.

“Truly the span of existence of any upon this earth is brief and

not to be considered; therefore, O unfortunate dwellers of

Ching-fow, let it not affect your digestion that your bodies are

in peril of sudden and most excruciating tortures and your Family

Temples in danger of humiliating disregard.

“Why do your thoughts follow the actions of the noble Mandarin

Ping Siang so insidiously, and why after each unjust exaction do

your eyes look redly towards the Yamen?

“Is he not the little finger of those at Peking, obeying their

commands and only carrying out the taxation which others have

devised? Indeed, he himself has stated such to be the fact. If,

therefore, a terrible and unforeseen fate overtook the usually

cautious and well-armed Ping Siang, doubtless--perhaps after the

lapse of some considerable time--another would be sent from Peking

for a like purpose, and in this way, after a too-brief period of

heaven-sent rest and prosperity, affairs would regulate themselves

into almost as unendurable a condition as before.

“Therefore ponder these things well, O passer-by. Yesterday the

only man-child of Huang the wood-carver was taken away to be sold

into slavery by the emissaries of the most just Ping Siang (who

would not have acted thus, we are assured, were it not for the

insatiable ones at Peking), as it had become plain that the very

necessitous Huang had no other possession to contribute to the

amount to be expended in coloured lights as a mark of public

rejoicing on the occasion of the moonday of the sublime Emperor.

The illiterate and prosaic-minded Huang, having in a most unseemly

manner reviled and even assailed those who acted in the matter,

has been effectively disposed of, and his wife now alternately

laughs and shrieks in the Establishment of Irregular Intellects.

“For this reason, gazer, and because the matter touches you more

closely than, in your self-imagined security, you are prone to

think, deal expediently with the time at your disposal. Look twice

and lingeringly to-night upon the face of your first-born, and

clasp the form of your favourite one in a closer embrace, for he

by whose hand the blow is directed may already have cast devouring

eyes upon their fairness, and to-morrow he may say to his armed

men: ‘The time is come; bring her to me.’”

“From the last sentence of the well-intentioned and undoubtedly

moderately-framed notice this person will take two phrases,” remarked

Tung Fel, folding the written paper and placing it among his

garments, “which shall serve him as the title of the lifelike and

accurately-represented play which it is his self-conceited intention

now to disclose to this select and unprejudiced gathering. The scene

represents an enlightened and well-merited justice overtaking an

arrogant and intolerable being who--need this person add?--existed many

dynasties ago, and the title is:

“THE TIME IS COME!

BY WHOSE HAND?”

Delivering himself in this manner, Tung Fel drew back the hanging

drapery which concealed the front of his large box, and disclosed to

those who were gathered round, not, as they had expected, a passage

from the Record of the Three Kingdoms, or some other dramatic work of

undoubted merit, but an ingeniously constructed representation of a

scene outside the walls of their own Ching-fow. On one side was a small

but minutely accurate copy of a wood-burner’s hut, which was known to

all present, while behind stood out the distant but nevertheless

unmistakable walls of the city. But it was the nearest part of the

spectacle that first held the attention of the entranced beholders, for

there disported themselves, in every variety of guileless and

attractive attitude, a number of young and entirely unconcerned doves.

Scarcely had the delighted onlookers fully observed the pleasing and

effective scene, or uttered their expressions of polished satisfaction

at the graceful and unassuming behaviour of the pretty creatures before

them, than the view entirely changed, and, as if by magic, the massive

and inelegant building of Ping Siang’s Yamen was presented before them.

As all gazed, astonished, the great door of the Yamen opened

stealthily, and without a moment’s pause a lean and ill-conditioned

rat, of unnatural size and rapacity, dashed out and seized the most

select and engaging of the unsuspecting prey in its hungry jaws. With

the expiring cry of the innocent victim the entire box was immediately,

and in the most unexpected manner, involved in a profound darkness,

which cleared away as suddenly and revealed the forms of the despoiler

and the victim lying dead by each other’s side.

Tung Fel came forward to receive the well-selected compliments of all

who had witnessed the entertainment.

“It may be objected,” he remarked, “that the play is, in a manner of

expressing one’s self, incomplete; for it is unrevealed by whose hand

the act of justice was accomplished. Yet in this detail is the accuracy

of the representation justified, for though the time has come, the hand

by which retribution is accorded shall never be observed.”

In such a manner did Tung Fel come to Ching-fow on the seventh day of

the month of Winged Dragons, throwing aside all restraint, and no longer

urging prudence or delay. Of all the throng which stood before him

scarcely one was without a deep offence against Ping Siang, while those

who had not as yet suffered feared what the morrow might display.

A wandering monk from the Island of Irredeemable Plagues was the first

to step forth in response to Tung Fel’s plainly understood suggestion.

“There is no necessity for this person to undertake further acts of

benevolence,” he remarked, dropping the cloak from his shoulder and

displaying the hundred and eight scars of extreme virtue; “nor,” he

continued, holding up his left hand, from which three fingers were burnt

away, “have greater endurances been neglected. Yet the matter before

this distinguished gathering is one which merits the favourable

consideration of all persons, and this one will in no manner turn away,

recounting former actions, while he allows others to press forward

towards the accomplishment of the just and divinely-inspired act.”

With these words the devout and unassuming person in question inscribed

his name upon a square piece of rice-paper, attesting his sincerity to

the fixed purpose for which it was designed by dipping his thumb into

the mixed blood of the slain animals and impressing this unalterable

seal upon the paper also. He was followed by a seller of drugs and

subtle medicines, whose entire stock had been seized and destroyed by

order of Ping Siang, so that no one in Ching-fow might obtain poison

for his destruction. Then came an overwhelming stream of persons, all of

whom had received some severe and well-remembered injury at the hands

of the malicious and vindictive Mandarin. All these followed a similar

observance, inscribing their names and binding themselves by the Blood

Oath. Last of all Yang Hu stepped up, partly from a natural modesty

which restrained him from offering himself when so many more versatile

persons of proved excellence were willing to engage in the matter, and

partly because an ill-advised conflict was taking place within his mind

as to whether the extreme course which was contemplated was the most

expedient to pursue. At last, however, he plainly perceived that he

could not honourably withhold himself from an affair that was in a

measure the direct outcome of his own unendurable loss, so that without

further hesitation he added his obscure name to the many illustrious

ones already in Tung Fel’s keeping.

When at length dark fell upon the city and the cries of the watchmen,

warning all prudent ones to bar well their doors against robbers,

as they themselves were withdrawing until the morrow, no longer rang

through the narrow ways of Ching-fow, all those persons who had pledged

themselves by name and seal went forth silently, and came together at

the place whereof Tung Fel had secretly conveyed them knowledge. There

Tung Fel, standing somewhat apart, placed all the folded papers in the

form of a circle, and having performed over them certain observances

designed to insure a just decision and to keep away evil influences,

submitted the selection to the discriminating choice of the Sacred

Flat and Round Sticks. Having in this manner secured the name of

the appointed person who should carry out the act of justice and

retribution, Tung Fel unfolded the paper, inscribed certain words upon

it, and replaced it among the others.

“The moment before great deeds,” began Tung Fel, stepping forward and

addressing himself to the expectant ones who were gathered round, “is

not the time for light speech, nor, indeed, for sentences of dignified

length, no matter how pleasantly turned to the ear they may be. Before

this person stand many who are undoubtedly illustrious in various

arts and virtues, yet one among them is pre-eminently marked out for

distinction in that his name shall be handed down in imperishable

history as that of a patriot of a pure-minded and uncompromising degree.

With him there is no need of further speech, and to this end I have

inscribed certain words upon his namepaper. To everyone this person will

now return the paper which has been entrusted to him, folded so that

the nature of its contents shall be an unwritten leaf to all others. Nor

shall the papers be unfolded by any until he is within his own chamber,

with barred doors, where all, save the one who shall find the message,

shall remain, not venturing forth until daybreak. I, Tung Fel, have

spoken, and assuredly I shall not eat my word, which is that a certain

and most degrading death awaits any who transgress these commands.”

It was with the short and sudden breath of the cowering antelope when

the stealthy tread of the pitiless tiger approaches its lair, that Yang

Hu opened his paper in the seclusion of his own cave; for his mind was

darkened with an inspired inside emotion that he, the one doubting among

the eagerly proffering and destructively inclined multitude, would

be chosen to accomplish the high aim for which, indeed, he felt

exceptionally unworthy. The written sentence which he perceived

immediately upon unfolding the paper, instructing him to appear again

before Tung Fel at the hour of midnight, was, therefore, nothing but

the echo and fulfilment of his own thoughts, and served in reality to

impress his mind with calmer feelings of dignified unconcern than would

have been the case had he not been chosen. Having neither possessions

nor relations, the occupation of disposing of his goods and making

ceremonious and affectionate leavetakings of his family, against the

occurrence of any unforeseen disaster, engrossed no portion of Yang Hu’s

time. Yet there was one matter to which no reference has yet been made,

but which now forces itself obtrusively upon the attention, which was

in a large measure responsible for many of the most prominent actions

of Yang Hu’s life, and, indeed, in no small degree influenced his

hesitation in offering himself before Tung Fel.

Not a bowshot distance from the place where the mountain path entered

the outskirts of the city lived Hiya-ai-Shao with her parents, who

were persons of assured position, though of no particular wealth. For a

period not confined to a single year it had been the custom of Yang Hu

to offer to this elegant and refined maiden all the rarest pieces

of jade which he could discover, while the most symmetrical and

remunerative she-goat in his flock enjoyed the honourable distinction of

bearing her incomparable name. Towards the almond garden of Hiya’s abode

Yang Hu turned his footsteps upon leaving his cave, and standing there,

concealed from all sides by the white and abundant flower-laden foliage,

he uttered a sound which had long been an agreed signal between them.

Presently a faint perfume of choo-lan spoke of her near approach, and

without delay Hiya herself stood by his side.

“Well-endowed one,” said Yang Hu, when at length they had gazed upon

each other’s features and made renewals of their protestations of mutual

regard, “the fixed intentions of a person have often been fitly likened

to the seed of the tree-peony, so ineffectual are their efforts among

the winds of constantly changing circumstance. The definite hope of

this person had long pointed towards a small but adequate habitation,

surrounded by sweet-smelling olive-trees and not far distant from the

jade cliffs and pastures which would afford a sufficient remuneration

and a means of living. This entrancing picture has been blotted out for

the time, and in its place this person finds himself face to face with

an arduous and dangerous undertaking, followed, perhaps, by hasty and

immediate flight. Yet if the adorable Hiya will prove the unchanging

depths of her constantly expressed intention by accompanying him as

far as the village of Hing where suitable marriage ceremonies can be

observed without delay, the exile will in reality be in the nature of

a triumphal procession, and the emotions with which this person has

hitherto regarded the entire circumstance will undergo a complete and

highly accomplished change.”

“Oh, Yang!” exclaimed the maiden, whose feelings at hearing these words

were in no way different from those of her lover when he was on the

point of opening the folded paper upon which Tung Fel had written; “what

is the nature of the mission upon which you are so impetuously resolved?

and why will it be followed by flight?”

“The nature of the undertaking cannot be revealed by reason of a

deliberately taken oath,” replied Yang Hu; “and the reason of its

possible consequence is a less important question to the two persons who

are here conversing together than of whether the amiable and graceful

Hiya is willing to carry out her often-expressed desire for an

opportunity of displaying the true depths of her emotions towards this

one.”

“Alas!” said Hiya, “the sentiments which this person expressed with

irreproachable honourableness when the sun was high in the heavens and

the probability of secretly leaving an undoubtedly well-appointed home

was engagingly remote, seem to have an entirely different significance

when recalled by night in a damp orchard, and on the eve of their

fulfilment. To deceive one’s parents is an ignoble prospect;

furthermore, it is often an exceedingly difficult undertaking. Let the

matter be arranged in this way: that Yang leaves the ultimate details

of the scheme to Hiya’s expedient care, he proceeding without delay

to Hing, or, even more desirable, to the further town of Liyunnan,

and there awaiting her coming. By such means the risk of discovery and

pursuit will be lessened, Yang will be able to set forth on his journey

with greater speed, and this one will have an opportunity of getting

together certain articles without which, indeed, she would be very

inadequately equipped.”

In spite of his conscientious desire that Hiya should be by his side

on the journey, together with an unendurable certainty that evil would

arise from the course she proposed, Yang was compelled by an innate

feeling of respect to agree to her wishes, and in this manner the

arrangement was definitely concluded. Thereupon Hiya, without delay,

returned to the dwelling, remarking that otherwise her absence might be

detected and the entire circumstance thereby discovered, leaving Yang Hu

to continue his journey and again present himself before Tung Fel, as he

had been instructed.

Tung Fel was engaged with brush and ink when Yang Hu entered. Round him

were many written parchments, some venerable with age, and a variety

of other matters, among which might be clearly perceived weapons, and

devices for reading the future. He greeted Yang with many tokens of

dignified respect, and with an evidently restrained emotion led him

towards the light of a hanging lantern, where he gazed into his face for

a considerable period with every indication of exceptional concern.

“Yang Hu,” he said at length, “at such a moment many dark and searching

thoughts may naturally arise in the mind concerning objects and reasons,

omens, and the moving cycle of events. Yet in all these, out of a wisdom

gained by deep endurance and a hardly-won experience beyond the common

lot, this person would say, Be content. The hand of destiny, though it

may at times appear to move in a devious manner, is ever approaching its

appointed aim. To this end were you chosen.”

“The choice was openly made by wise and proficient omens,” replied Yang

Hu, without any display of uncertainty of purpose, “and this person is

content.”

Tung Fel then administered to Yang the Oath of Buddha’s Face and the One

called the Unutterable (which may not be further described in written

words) thereby binding his body and soul, and the souls and repose of

all who had gone before him in direct line and all who should in a like

manner follow after, to the accomplishment of the design. All spoken

matter being thus complete between them, he gave him a mask with which

he should pass unknown through the streets and into the presence of Ping

Siang, a variety of weapons to use as the occasion arose, and a sign

by which the attendants at the Yamen would admit him without further

questioning.

As Yang Hu passed through the streets of Ching-fow, which were in a

great measure deserted owing to the command of Tung Fel, he was aware of

many mournful and foreboding sounds which accompanied him on all sides,

while shadowy faces, bearing signs of intolerable anguish and despair,

continually formed themselves out of the wind. By the time he reached

the Yamen a tempest of exceptional violence was in progress, nor were

other omens absent which tended to indicate that matters of a very

unpropitious nature were about to take place.

At each successive door of the Yamen the attendant stepped back and

covered his face, so that he should by no chance perceive who had come

upon so destructive a mission, the instant Yang Hu uttered the sign with

which Tung Fel had provided him. In this manner Yang quickly reached the

door of the inner chamber upon which was inscribed: “Let the person who

comes with a doubtful countenance, unbidden, or meditating treachery,

remember the curse and manner of death which attended Lai Kuen, who

slew the one over him; so shall he turn and go forth in safety.” This

unworthy safeguard at the hands of a person who passed his entire life

in altering the fixed nature of justice, and who never went beyond his

outer gate without an armed company of bowmen, inspired Yang Hu with

so incautious a contempt, that without any hesitation he drew forth his

brush and ink, and in a spirit of bitter signification added the words,

“‘Come, let us eat together,’ said the wolf to the she-goat.”

Being now within a step of Ping Siang and the completion of his

undertaking, Yang Hu drew tighter the cords of his mask, tested and

proved his weapons, and then, without further delay, threw open the door

before him and stepped into the chamber, barring the door quickly so

that no person might leave or enter without his consent.

At this interruption and manner of behaving, which clearly indicated

the nature of the errand upon which the person before him had come,

Ping Siang rose from his couch and stretched out his hand towards a gong

which lay beside him.

“All summonses for aid are now unavailing, Ping Siang,” exclaimed Yang,

without in any measure using delicate or set phrases of speech; “for,

as you have doubtless informed yourself, the slaves of tyrants are the

first to welcome the downfall of their lord.”

“The matter of your speech is as emptiness to this person,” replied the

Mandarin, affecting with extreme difficulty an appearance of no-concern.

“In what manner has he fallen? And how will the depraved and self-willed

person before him avoid the well-deserved tortures which certainly await

him in the public square on the morrow, as the reward of his intolerable

presumptions?”

“O Mandarin,” cried Yang Hu, “the fitness and occasion for such speeches

as the one to which you have just given utterance lie as far behind you

as the smoke of yesterday’s sacrifice. With what manner of eyes have you

frequently journeyed through Ching-fow of late, if the signs and

omens there have not already warned you to prepare a coffin adequately

designed to receive your well-proportioned body? Has not the pungent

vapour of burning houses assailed your senses at every turn, or the salt

tears from the eyes of forlorn ones dashed your peach-tea and spiced

foods with bitterness?”

“Alas!” exclaimed Ping Siang, “this person now certainly begins to

perceive that many things which he has unthinkingly allowed would

present a very unendurable face to others.”

“In such a manner has it appeared to all Ching-fow,” said Yang Hu; “and

the justice of your death has been universally admitted. Even should

this one fail there would be an innumerable company eager to take his

place. Therefore, O Ping Siang, as the only favour which it is within

this person’s power to accord, select that which in your opinion is the

most agreeable manner and weapon for your end.”

“It is truly said that at the Final Gate of the Two Ways the necessity

for elegant and well-chosen sentences ends,” remarked Ping Siang with a

sigh, “otherwise the manner of your address would be open to reproach.

By your side this person perceives a long and apparently highly-tempered

sword, which, in his opinion, will serve the purpose efficiently. Having

no remarks of an improving but nevertheless exceedingly tedious nature

with which to imprint the occasion for the benefit of those who come

after, his only request is that the blow shall be an unhesitating and

sufficiently well-directed one.”

At these words Yang Hu threw back his cloak to grasp the sword-handle,

when the Mandarin, with his eyes fixed on the naked arm, and evidently

inspired by every manner of conflicting emotions, uttered a cry of

unspeakable wonder and incomparable surprise.

“The Serpent!” he cried, in a voice from which all evenness and control

were absent. “The Sacred Serpent of our Race! O mysterious one, who and

whence are you?”

Engulfed in an all-absorbing doubt at the nature of events, Yang could

only gaze at the form of the serpent which had been clearly impressed

upon his arm from the earliest time of his remembrance, while Ping

Siang, tearing the silk garment from his own arm and displaying thereon

a similar form, continued:

“Behold the inevitable and unvarying birthmark of our race! So it was

with this person’s father and the ones before him; so it was with his

treacherously-stolen son; so it will be to the end of all time.”

Trembling beyond all power of restraint, Yang removed the mask which had

hitherto concealed his face.

“Father or race has this person none,” he said, looking into Ping

Siang’s features with an all-engaging hope, tempered in a measure by a

soul-benumbing dread; “nor memory or tradition of an earlier state than

when he herded goats and sought for jade in the southern mountains.”

“Nevertheless,” exclaimed the Mandarin, whose countenance was lightened

with an interest and a benevolent emotion which had never been seen

there before, “beyond all possibility of doubting, you are this

person’s lost and greatly-desired son, stolen away many years ago by

the treacherous conduct of an unworthy woman, yet now happily and

miraculously restored to cherish his declining years and perpetuate an

honourable name and race.”

“Happily!” exclaimed Yang, with fervent indications of uncontrollable

bitterness. “Oh, my illustrious sire, at whose venerated feet this

unworthy person now prostrates himself with well-merited marks of

reverence and self-abasement, has the errand upon which an ignoble son

entered--the every memory of which now causes him the acutest agony

of the lost, but which nevertheless he is pledged to Tung Fel by the

Unutterable Oath to perform--has this unnatural and eternally cursed

thing escaped your versatile mind?”

“Tung Fel!” cried Ping Siang. “Is, then, this blow also by the hand of

that malicious and vindictive person? Oh, what a cycle of events and

interchanging lines of destiny do your words disclose!”

“Who, then, is Tung Fel, my revered Father?” demanded Yang.

“It is a matter which must be made clear from the beginning,” replied

Ping Siang. “At one time this person and Tung Fel were, by nature

and endowments, united in the most amiable bonds of an inseparable

friendship. Presently Tung Fel signed the preliminary contract of

a marriage with one who seemed to be endowed with every variety of

enchanting and virtuous grace, but who was, nevertheless, as the

unrolling of future events irresistibly discovered, a person of

irregular character and undignified habits. On the eve of the marriage

ceremony this person was made known to her by the undoubtedly enraptured

Tung Fel, whereupon he too fell into the snare of her engaging

personality, and putting aside all thoughts of prudent restraint, made

her more remunerative offers of marriage than Tung Fel could by any

possible chance overbid. In such a manner--for after the nature of

her kind riches were exceptionally attractive to her degraded

imagination--she became this person’s wife, and the mother of his only

son. In spite of these great honours, however, the undoubted perversity

of her nature made her an easy accomplice to the duplicity of Tung

Fel, who, by means of various disguises, found frequent opportunity of

uttering in her presence numerous well-thought-out suggestions specially

designed to lead her imagination towards an existence in which this

person had no adequate representation. Becoming at length terrified at

the possibility of these unworthy emotions, obtruding themselves upon

this person’s notice, the two in question fled together, taking with

them the one who without any doubt is now before me. Despite the most

assiduous search and very tempting and profitable offers of reward, no

information of a reliable nature could be obtained, and at length

this dispirited and completely changed person gave up the pursuit as

unavailing. With his son and heir, upon whose future he had greatly

hoped, all emotions of a generous and high-minded nature left him, and

in a very short space of time he became the avaricious and deservedly

unpopular individual against whose extortions the amiable and

long-suffering ones of Ching-fow have for so many years protested

mildly. The sudden and not altogether unexpected fate which is now

on the point of reaching him is altogether too lenient to be entirely

adequate.”

“Oh, my distinguished and really immaculate sire!” cried Yang Hu, in a

voice which expressed the deepest feelings of contrition. “No oaths or

vows, however sacred, can induce this person to stretch forth his hand

against the one who stands before him.”

“Nevertheless,” replied Ping Siang, speaking of the matter as though it

were one which did not closely concern his own existence, “to neglect

the Unutterable Oath would inevitably involve not only the two persons

who are now conversing together, but also those before and those who are

to come after in direct line, in a much worse condition of affairs. That

is a fate which this person would by no means permit to exist, for one

of his chief desires has ever been to establish a strong and vigorous

line, to which end, indeed, he was even now concluding a marriage

arrangement with the beautiful and refined Hiya-ai-Shao, whom he had

at length persuaded into accepting his betrothal tokens without

reluctance.”

“Hiya-ai-Shao!” exclaimed Yang; “she has accepted your silk-bound

gifts?”

“The matter need not concern us now,” replied the Mandarin, not

observing in his complicated emotions the manner in which the name of

Hiya had affected Yang, revealing as it undoubtedly did the treachery of

his beloved one. “There only appears to be one honourable way in which

the full circumstances can be arranged, and this person will in no

measure endeavour to avoid it.”

“Such an end is neither ignoble nor painful,” he said, in an unchanging

voice; “nor will this one in any way shrink from so easy and honourable

a solution.”

“The affairs of the future do not exhibit themselves in delicately

coloured hues to this person,” said Yang Hu; “and he would, if the thing

could be so arranged, cheerfully submit to a similar fate in order that

a longer period of existence should be assured to one who has every

variety of claim upon his affection.”

“The proposal is a graceful and conscientious one,” said Ping Siang,

“and is, moreover, a gratifying omen of the future of our race, which

must of necessity be left in your hands. But, for that reason itself,

such a course cannot be pursued. Nevertheless, the events of the past

few hours have been of so exceedingly prosperous and agreeable a nature

that this short-sighted and frequently desponding person can now

pass beyond with a tranquil countenance and every assurance of divine

favour.”

With these words Ping Siang indicated that he was desirous of setting

forth the Final Expression, and arranging the necessary matters upon the

table beside him, he stretched forth his hands over Yang Hu, who placed

himself in a suitable attitude of reverence and abasement.

“Yang Hu,” began the Mandarin, “undoubted son, and, after the

accomplishment of the intention which it is our fixed purpose to carry

out, fitting representative of the person who is here before you,

engrave well within your mind the various details upon which he now

gives utterance. Regard the virtues; endeavour to pass an amiable and

at the same time not unremunerative existence; and on all occasions

sacrifice freely, to the end that the torments of those who have gone

before may be made lighter, and that others may be induced in turn to

perform a like benevolent charity for yourself. Having expressed

himself upon these general subjects, this person now makes a last and

respectfully-considered desire, which it is his deliberate wish should

be carried to the proper deities as his final expression of opinion:

That Yang Hu may grow as supple as the dried juice of the bending-palm,

and as straight as the most vigorous bamboo from the forests of the

North. That he may increase beyond the prolificness of the white-necked

crow and cover the ground after the fashion of the binding grass.

That in battle his sword may be as a vividly-coloured and many-forked

lightning flash, accompanied by thunderbolts as irresistible as Buddha’s

divine wrath; in peace his voice as resounding as the rolling of many

powerful drums among the Khingan Mountains. That when the kindled fire

of his existence returns to the great Mountain of Pure Flame the earth

shall accept again its component parts, and in no way restrain the

divine essence from journeying to its destined happiness. These words

are Ping Siang’s last expression of opinion before he passes beyond,

given in the unvarying assurance that so sacred and important a petition

will in no way be neglected.”

Having in this manner completed all the affairs which seemed to be of

a necessary and urgent nature, and fixing his last glance upon Yang Hu

with every variety of affectionate and estimable emotion, the Mandarin

drank a sufficient quantity of the liquid, and placing himself upon a

couch in an attitude of repose, passed in this dignified and unassuming

manner into the Upper Air.

After the space of a few moments spent in arranging certain objects and

in inward contemplation, Yang Hu crossed the chamber, still holding

the half-filled vessel of gold-leaf in his hand, and drawing back the

hanging silk, gazed over the silent streets of Ching-fow and towards the

great sky-lantern above.

“Hiya is faithless,” he said at length in an unspeaking voice; “this

person’s mother a bitter-tasting memory, his father a swiftly passing

shadow that is now for ever lost.” His eyes rested upon the closed

vessel in his hand. “Gladly would--” his thoughts began, but with

this unworthy image a new impression formed itself within his mind. “A

clearly-expressed wish was uttered,” he concluded, “and Tung Fel still

remains.” With this resolution he stepped back into the chamber and

struck the gong loudly.

VII.

THE CAREER OF THE CHARITABLE QUEN-KI-TONG

FIRST PERIOD

THE PUBLIC OFFICIAL

“The motives which inspired the actions of the devout Quen-Ki-Tong have

long been ill-reported,” said Kai Lung the story-teller, upon a certain

occasion at Wu-whei, “and, as a consequence, his illustrious memory has

suffered somewhat. Even as the insignificant earth-worm may bring

the precious and many coloured jewel to the surface, so has it been

permitted to this obscure and superficially educated one to discover

the truth of the entire matter among the badly-arranged and frequently

really illegible documents preserved at the Hall of Public Reference at

Peking. Without fear of contradiction, therefore, he now sets forth the

credible version.

“Quen-Ki-Tong was one who throughout his life had been compelled by

the opposing force of circumstances to be content with what was offered

rather than attain to that which he desired. Having been allowed to

wander over the edge of an exceedingly steep crag, while still a child,

by the aged and untrustworthy person who had the care of him, and yet

suffering little hurt, he was carried back to the city in triumph,

by the one in question, who, to cover her neglect, declared amid

many chants of exultation that as he slept a majestic winged form had

snatched him from her arms and traced magical figures with his body on

the ground in token of the distinguished sacred existence for which he

was undoubtedly set apart. In such a manner he became famed at a very

early age for an unassuming mildness of character and an almost inspired

piety of life, so that on every side frequent opportunity was given him

for the display of these amiable qualities. Should it chance that an

insufficient quantity of puppy-pie had been prepared for the family

repast, the undesirable but necessary portion of cold dried rat would

inevitably be allotted to the uncomplaining Quen, doubtless accompanied

by the engaging but unnecessary remark that he alone had a Heaven-sent

intellect which was fixed upon more sublime images than even the

best constructed puppy-pie. Should the number of sedan-chairs not be

sufficient to bear to the Exhibition of Kites all who were desirous of

becoming entertained in such a fashion, inevitably would Quen be the one

left behind, in order that he might have adequate leisure for dignified

and pure-minded internal reflexion.