called before the tribunal of The-King-of-shadows. Closing my eyes, I
can still see the big caldrons full of boiling oil for the trying of
criminals; the Judge in embroidered dress seated behind a red table; the
satellites everywhere, ready to act on the first word,--in fact,
everything exactly the same as in the worldly tribunals, excepting that,
in the eastern part of the hall, there were huge wooden stands from
which hung skins of every description--horse-skins, lambs' skins, dogs'
skins, and human skins of every age and condition; skins of old men, of
fat and important people, of lean and shrivelled men, of boys and girls.
"The trial began; the souls, according to their deeds, were condemned to
put on one of the skins and to come up again to the Lighted World in
this new shape.
"When my turn came I was sentenced to put a dog's skin on; and in this
low shape I was thrown again in the stream of life. But as I had not
forgotten my former condition, I was so ashamed, that the first day I
came on earth I threw myself under the wheels of a heavy carriage and
died.
"The-King-of-shadows was extremely surprised to see me again so soon;
the dogs, as a rule, having no conscience, he could not suppose I had
killed myself, and did not hold me responsible for it.
"This time, I was born again as a pig. Pigs are valuable, and there are
always people to look after them; so I could not kill myself. I tried to
starve myself to death, but hunger was the strongest, and I had to
endure such a life. Happily, the butcher soon put a speedy end to it.
"When my name was called to the tribunal of Darkness, the
King-of-shadows looked over the pages of the Book and said:
"'He must be a lamb now.'
"The runners took a white lamb's skin, brought it, and began putting it
over my body. While this was going on, the secretary, who was writing
the sentence in the Book, started and said to the Judge:
"'Your Honour, there is a mistake. Please Your Honour read over again;
this soul has to be a man now.'
"You know that, on the Big Book of Shadows, all our past deeds are
recorded as well as our future destiny.
"The Judge looked at it over again and said:
"'True! Happily, you saw the mistake.'
"Then, turning to the runners, he ordered them to take off the skin,
which already covered more than half my body. They had to exert all
their strength, and even so, they tore it off into pieces. It hurt me so
much that I thought I could not stand it and I should die; but I was
dead, and I could not die more than that.
"At last they left me bleeding and panting, and I was born again in my
present condition. But they had forgotten a piece of lamb's skin on my
right shoulder, and I still have it now."
And he uncovered his arm and shoulder to show a piece of white woollen
hair on his right shoulder.
_LOVE'S-SLAVE_
In the City-between-the-rivers lived a young student named Lan. He had
just passed successfully his second literary examination, and, walking
in the Street-of-the-precious-stones, asked himself what he would now do
in life.
While he was going, looking vacantly at the passers-by, he saw an old
friend of his father, and hastened to join his closed fists and to
salute him very low, as politeness orders.
"My best congratulations!" answered the old man. "What are you doing in
this busy street?"
"Nothing at all; I was asking myself what profession I am now to
pursue."
"What profession? Which one would be more honourable than that of
teacher? It is the only one an 'elevated man' _Kiu-jen_ of the second
degree, can pursue. By the by, would you honour my house with your
presence? My son is nearly eighteen. He is not half as learned as he
should be, and, besides, he has a very bad temper. I feel very old; if I
knew you would consent to give him the right direction and be a second
father to him, I would not dread so much to die and leave him alone."
Lan bowed and said:
"I am much honoured by your proposition, and I accept it readily. I will
go to-morrow to your palace."
Two hours after, a messenger brought to the young man a packet
containing one hundred ounces of silver, with a note stating that this
comparatively great sum represented his first year's salary.
In the evening he knocked at his pupil's door and was ushered into the
sitting-room. The old man introduced him to the whole family: first his
son, a lad with a decided look boding no good; then a young and
beautiful girl of seventeen, his daughter, called Love's-slave. Lan was
struck by the sweet and refined appearance of his pupil's sister.
"The sight of her will greatly help me to stay here," thought he.
The next morning, when his first lesson was ended, he strolled out into
the garden, admiring here a flower and there an artificial little
waterfall among diminutive mountain-rocks. Behind a bamboo-bush he
suddenly saw Love's-slave and was discreetly turning back, when she
stopped him by a few words of greeting.
Every day they thus met in the solitude of the flowers and trees and
grew to love each other. Lan's task with his pupil was greater and
harder than he had supposed; but for Love's-slave's sake, he would never
have remained in the house.
After three months the old man fell ill; the doctors were unable to cure
him; he died, and was buried in the family ground, behind the house.
When Lan, after the funeral, told his pupil to resume his lessons, he
met with such a reception that he went immediately to his room and
packed his belongings. Love's-slave, hearing from a servant what had
happened, went straight to her lover's room and tried to induce him to
stay.
"How can you ask that from me?" said he. "After such an insult, I would
consider myself as the basest of men if I stayed. I have 'lost face'; I
must go."
The girl, seeing that nothing could prevail upon his resolution, went
out of the room, but silently closed and locked the outer gate.
Lan left on a table what remained of the silver given him by the old
man, and wrote a note to inform his pupil of his departure.
When he tried the gate and found it locked, he did not know at first
what to do. Then he remembered a place where he could easily climb over
the enclosure, went there, threw his luggage over the wall, and let
himself out in this somewhat undignified way.
Before going back to his house, he went round to the tomb of the old man
and burnt some sticks of perfume. Kneeling down, he explained
respectfully to the dead what had happened and excused himself for
having left unfinished the task he had undertaken. Rising at last, he
went away.
The next morning Love's-slave, pleased with her little trick, came to
the student's room and looked for him; he was nowhere to be found. She
saw the silver on the table, and, reading the note he had left, she
understood that he would never come back.
Her grief stifled her; heavy tears at last began running down her rosy
cheeks. She took the silver, went straight to her father's tomb,
fastened the heavy metal to her feet, and unrolled a sash from her
waist. Then, making a knot with the sash round her neck, she climbed up
the lower branches of a big fir-tree, fastened the other end of the
coloured silk as high as she could and threw herself down. A few minutes
afterwards she was dead. She was discovered by a member of the family,
and quietly buried in the same enclosure.
Lan, who did not know anything, came back two or three days after to see
her. The servants told him the truth. Silently and sullenly, he went to
the tomb, and long remained absorbed in his thoughts; dusk was
gathering; the first star shone in the sky. All of a sudden, hearing a
sound as of somebody laughing, he turned round. Love's-slave was before
his eyes.
"I was waiting for you, my love," she said in a strange and muffled
voice. "Why are you coming so late?"
As he wanted to kiss her, she stopped him:
"Oh dear! I am dead. But it is decreed that I will come again to life if
a magician performs the ceremony prescribed in the
Book-of-Transmutations."
Immaterial like an evening fog, she disappeared in the growing darkness.
Lan returned immediately to the town, and, entering the first Taoist
temple he saw, he explained to the priest what he wanted.
"If she has said it is decreed she should come back to life, we have
only to go and open her tomb, while here my disciples will sing the
proper chapters of the Book. Let us go now."
Giving some directions to his companions, he took a spade and started
with Lan. The moon was shining, so that without any lantern they were
able to perform their gloomy task.
Once the heavy lid of the coffin was unscrewed and taken off, the body
of the young girl appeared as fresh as if she had been sleeping.
When the cold night-air bathed her face, she raised her head, sneezed,
and sat up; looking at Lan, she said in a low voice:
"At last, you have come! I am recalled to life by your love. But now I
am feeble; don't speak harshly to me; I could not bear it."
Lan, kissing her lovingly, took her in his arms and brought her to his
house. After some days she was able to walk and live like ordinary
people do.
They married and lived happily together for a year. Then, one day, Lan,
having come back half-drunk from a friend's house, was rebuked by her,
and, incensed, pushed her back. She did not say a word but, fainting,
she fell down. Blood ran from her nostrils and mouth; nothing could
recall her departing spirit.
_THE LAUGHING GHOST_
Siu Long-mountain was one of the most celebrated students of the
district of Perfect-flowers. Having mastered the mysterious theories of
the ancient Classics, he took a fancy in the researches of the Taoist
magicians, whose temples may be found in the smallest villages of the
Empire. He soon discovered that, for the greater number, they were
impostors; and, being proud of his newly acquired science, he concluded
that none of them possessed any occult power.
When he came to this somewhat hasty conclusion, he was seated alone in
his library; the night was already advancing; a small oil lamp hardly
illuminated his books on the table he was sitting at.
"Yes, there is no doubt; nothing exists outside the material
appearances. There is nothing occult in the world, and nothing can come
out of nothingness."
As he was saying these words half aloud, he was startled by an unearthly
laugh which seemed to come from behind his back. He turned quickly
round; but nothing was to be seen.
His heart beating, he was listening intently; the laugh came from
another part of the room.
Long-mountain was brave, but as people are brave who have only met the
ordinary dangers of civilised life, such as barking dogs, insulting
coolies, or angry dealers presenting a long-deferred bill. He tried in
vain to believe it was only a joke imposed on him by some friend;
nothing could prevail upon his growing terror.
Straining his eyes, he looked at the part of the room the laugh seemed
to come from. At first he could not see anything, but by degrees he
perceived a black shadow moving in a corner, then a strange form with a
horse's head and a man's body, all covered with long black hair; the
teeth were big and sharp as so many mountain-peaks. The eyes of this
dreadful creature began shining so much that the whole room was
illuminated. Then it began moving towards the man.
This was too much; the student screamed like a dying donkey, and,
bursting the door open, he ran out into the courtyard.
From an open door in the western pavilion a ray of light crossed the
darkness; four or five men were playing cards, drinking, and swearing.
Long-mountain ran into their room, and, panting, explained his vision.
The men, being drunk, wanted to see the Thing; holding lanterns and
lamps, they accompanied their visitor back to his studio. When they
passed the doorway, Long-mountain screamed again; the Thing was still
there. He would have run away had not the men, laughing and jesting,
shown him what the Ghost in reality was--a long dress hung in a corner
to a big hook, on which sat a black cat mewing desperately.
When the men closed the door and left him alone, the student was deeply
ashamed of his terror; shaken by his emotion, he went to bed and tried
to sleep. Sleep would not come; his nervousness seemed to increase.
Starting at the smallest noise, he remained a long time wide awake; then
he lost consciousness.
In the silence one only heard the cries of the night-birds and the
buzzing of the autumn's insects; the lamp was out, but a brilliant moon
began to pour its silver light through the window.
The door suddenly creaked; Long-mountain awoke and sat up on his bed;
the door slowly opened, and the same Thing he had seen and heard entered
the room and advanced towards the bed, while the same unearthly laugh
came from the long and unshapely head; the flaming eyes were fixed on
the student.
When the Thing was near the bed, Long-mountain fell heavily and did not
move any more.
The Ghost stopped, put his hand on the breast of the man, remained in
that position a moment, then went quickly and silently out of the room.
A man was standing outside.
"What did he say?" asked he.
"Be quiet!" said the Ghost, taking off his horse's head and discovering
a man's very serious face. "The joke was good. But we have done it too
well. I think he is dead of terror; we had better be as silent as a tomb
about all this. The magistrate would never believe in a joke; we would
be held responsible for this death and pay a heavy penalty."
THE END
_Printed by Hazell, Watson, & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury,
England._