The family set out for Canton under the direction of their little
servant, whose heart seemed full of anticipation and delight.
The boat stopped when some distance still from the city. A gilded barge
with a dragon's head and silken curtains had come to meet them. Not far
away they saw a landing, with boats and people.
"You are to wait for me here," said little Sky-High, as he went aboard
the barge. "I will return soon."
Gongs sounded, banners waved, as the gilded boat made its way through
the river craft. Mr. Van Buren could see a row of sedan chairs standing
upon the landing, gorgeous in gilded frames and silk curtains, with
bearers and servants in rich costumes. Presently, among these people
they saw their little Sky-High approach a tall man, who seemed to be a
master of ceremonies, when the gongs were again beaten.
"Well, this is growing somewhat remarkable!" said Mr. Van Buren. "Yes,
even if the boy is returning from America with Americans whose name is
noted in the commerce of the country!"
Sky-High returned; the family went aboard the cushioned boat, and at the
landing were assisted into the sedans, and carried up the water-steps
into a high garden, with pavilions, and then on to other gardens away
from the river. Golden gables shone above the trees. The hedges were
full of blooms and bees, and lovely birds went flashing by. The trees
were hung with red lanterns that seemed as light as air; and there were
dragon kites in the sky. It was like an ethereal paradise, even to the
now silent Boston merchant.
A vista opened, showing a house where guards in brilliant Chinese
uniforms stood at the door. Then again gongs sounded.
Three mandarins in robes of silk, their buttons of rank glittering in
their caps, came down the wide pathway, as though to meet the visitors,
before whose chairs little Sky-High walked. One of them, a stately man,
nearly seven feet high, suddenly spread out his arms; whereupon Sky-High
rushed forward, prostrated himself, and was almost wrapped from sight,
as he was lifted in the immense sleeves of silk and gold.
Mr. Van Buren was now truly filled with amazement. Little Sky-High's
mistress was terrified. The children didn't know exactly what to think,
sitting together in their sedan, only that they were glad to see the
tall mandarin enfold their own dear Sky-High in his flowing silk robes!
Little Lucy was half crying. "I believe, I do believe, that he _was_
a wang all the time!" she at last said to Charlie.
The palace was wonderful. Strange lamps hung over them as they passed
in. There were beautiful couches and chairs, with gilded arms and silken
cushions. The walls were set with carvings and perforated work. Here
hung bars of musical bells; there stood great jars and vases; everywhere
were fantastic furnishings of silks and costly metals. Feathery green
bamboos grew in dragon pots. In the corners stood grotesque figures in
armor.
The lamps in their golden lattices burst into soft flame.
"Unaccountable!" said Mr. Van Buren to himself. "Sky-High would hardly
be better welcomed were he the wang that Lucy dreamed him to be!"
"Mandarin of Boston," said the tall Chinaman, with an obeisance the like
of which was never made in western lands, "welcome to our country; you
have been good, indeed, to this boy--the Light of my Eyes, the Heart of
my Heart! Madam of this illustrious mandarin, never will I forget you,
nor"--turning to the two half-frightened children--"nor you, my little
Prince and Princess of the Golden Dome beyond the seas! All shall always
be well for you all in our country!"
The tall Chinaman spoke in "flowery English," easily; but the American
family knew not what to say, nor how to answer, and they bowed in silence
and Lucy said to herself, "The little wang knew what to do in my
country, but I do not know what to do in his!"
A little later Mrs. Van Buren, beckoning him to her side as though she
were in her own house, said to Sky-High, in lowered tones, "Is this tall
mandarin the mandarin in Manchuria that was your master before you came
to America?"
Little Sky-High bowed, with a sudden blink of his almond eyes.
"Mistress," said he, "he was the mandarin who sent me to America, in
care of the consul, that I might know of the American home-life. He
wishes me to learn everything that will be of good to me and my country
when I am a man"--
"Is he any kinsman of yours?" interrupted his mistress.
"Yes, my noble madam."
"Pray, what relation may he be to you?" Mrs. Van Buren asked, a strange
sensation rushing over her.
Lucy and Charles stood near, drinking in every word.
"The prince is my father, mistress," answered little Sky-High.
The two children, standing in the shelter of a carven screen, clapped
their hands in the American fashion. Lucy cried out, though softly, "Oh,
Sky-High, we are so glad, so glad! You _are_ a wang! You were a
wang all the time!"
"Even as you treated me, always, my little Lady of the Lotus!" answered
Sky-High, bowing before the children and their mother in the manner of
his gorgeous father.
* * * * *
That night there was a feast in the summer palace of the Canton mandarin
in honor of the return of the little prince, and the visit of his great
American friend, the mandarin of Boston.
Over the tea of Dharma the mandarins related Chinese tales for the
entertainment of the illustrious American. The little prince told the
story of the German collier family who changed a haunting evil into a
guardian angel.
And the prince, his father, said, "That must be a true tale, for it is
as it would be with men and spirits in China. The wisdom of Buddha is in
the story."
The next day, in the pavilion by the lake of the rosy nelumbiums, where
she sat with her mother, and the wonderful Chinese ladies and children,
little Lucy said to Sky-High. "I always treated you like a wang, didn't
I?"
"And we will treat you here as a viceroy would treat another viceroy's
little girl," said Sky-High--whose real name was Ching--the Prince
Ching.