“To what matter do you refer?”
“I feared,” said Chau, “that you were angry with me for having run away
with Ts’ing. I took her with me to the province of Chuh.”
“What Ts’ing was that?” asked Kien.
“Your daughter Ts’ing,” answered Chau, beginning to suspect his
father-in-law of some malevolent design.
“What are you talking about?” cried Kien, with every appearance of
astonishment. “My daughter Ts’ing has been sick in bed all these
years,--ever since the time when you went away.”
“Your daughter Ts’ing,” returned Chau, becoming angry, “has not been
sick. She has been my wife for six years; and we have two children; and
we have both returned to this place only to seek your pardon. Therefore
please do not mock us!”
For a moment the two looked at each other in silence. Then Kien arose,
and motioning to his nephew to follow, led the way to an inner room
where a sick girl was lying. And Chau, to his utter amazement, saw the
face of Ts’ing,--beautiful, but strangely thin and pale.
“She cannot speak,” explained the old man; “but she can understand.” And
Kien said to her, laughingly:--“Chau tells me that you ran away with
him, and that you gave him two children.”
The sick girl looked at Chau, and smiled; but remained silent.
“Now come with me to the river,” said the bewildered visitor to his
father-in-law. “For I can assure you,--in spite of what I have seen in
this house,--that your daughter Ts’ing is at this moment in my boat.”
They went to the river; and there, indeed, was the young wife, waiting.
And seeing her father, she bowed down before him, and besought his
pardon.