Chapter II: Part 2

He also had complicated dreams that night. He rose in the morning and opened the port-hole of his cabin. Ho Chang's ship was touching his own, and the port-hole opposite to him was open. Elegant appeared there, and their eyes met. Surprised, delighted and embarrassed, they smiled, as if they had known each other for a long time. They would gladly have spoken, but were afraid of being heard. Then she made a small sign to him, retired quickly into her cabin, and rapidly wrote some words on a piece of paper ornamented with sprays of rose peach. She rolled it in a silk handkerchief and cleverly threw it to Ya-nei, who caught it in both hands. They saluted each other, and reclosed their port-holes.

He unfolded the handkerchief and smoothed out the crinkled leaf. It bore this poem:

Brocade characters are on this paper of flowers,
And the bowels of my sorris in this embroidery,
I have dreamed of a prince
And, carried upon a cloud, I come to him.

But there was also a little word or two added:

"This evening your submissive mistress will await you near the lamp. The noise of my scissors will be the signal for our happiness, and of our meeting."

Beyond himself with joy, the lad hastened to take a leaf of golden paper and wrote out a poem on it. Then he took off his embroidered silken girdle, rolled it all together, and opened his port-hole. Elegant had also opened hers; she received the small packet and at once concealed it in her sleeve, for she heard the slaves approaching. These were followed by her mother. At last the time came for her father to cross to the other ship for the return feast given by Wu.

Full of cunning, the maiden took a vessel brimming with liquor and gave it to her slaves, who eyed the gift as a thirsty dragon looks upon water. They were half-drunk when Ho Chang came back from the feast, and Elegant told them to go to bed, and that she would do some needle-work. As their faces were red, their ears burning and their legs unsteady, they were only too glad to retire; and soon their snores were heard over the ship. Little by little all other sounds died away in both the junks. Then she gently knocked on her port-hole with her scissors.

Naturally Ya-nei was waiting for the signal; as soon as he heard it, his body was as if it had been shaken to pieces. However, he softly opened his shutter, stepped from one ship to the other, and glided into the cabin where the maiden awaited him. She gave him formal greeting, which he returned; but they looked at each other under the lamp, and their passion already raged like fire. They could hardly exchange a word, and Ya-nei's trembling hands were undoing. She offered but very feeble resistance. He ardently embraced her, and with his arms joined himself to the fresh breast that lighted him.

At last they were able to speak. She told him of her dream, and of her astonishment on recognizing, in his poem, the verses which she had heard him sing in dream. He turned pale and sat down:

"My dream was exactly yours. Before these omens are fulfilled, I shall speak to my father to arrange our marriage."

But, even as they talked, they silently fell asleep arm in arm.

Now about the middle of the night, the wind fell and the river became calmer. At the fifth watch the sailors untied their moorings and began to haul their anchors, singing at their work. The noise awakened the lovers, who heard the men say:

"The ship catches the wind rarely. We shall not be long in getting to Ch'i-Chow."

They looked at each other in dismay:

"What are we going to do now?"

"Hush!" said she. You must remain hidden for the moment. We will at last find a plan."

"It is our dream come true."

Remembering that the slaves had seen her lover's feet in her dream, Elegant leaned forward and covered them carefully with an ample blanket. At last she said:

"I have a plan. During the day you must hide under the couch, and I shall pretend to be ill, and keep in bed, or in the cabin. When we reach Ch'i-Chow, I will give you a little money, and you must escape in the confusion of the disembarkation. You shall rejoin your parents, and we will arrange for our marriage. If, by any chance, my parents were to refuse, we should tell the truth. My family has always loved me excessively; they will certainly accede."

As soon as they had determined on their course, Ya-nei slid under the bed, and made himself a place among the baggages. The curtain fell into place in front of him, and the young girl was still in bed when her mother came in, saying:

"Aya! Why are you resting like this?"

"I do not feel very well. I must have taken cold."

"Cover yourself well, my daughter, if that be so."

At this moment a slave entered, asking if she should bring breakfast.

"My child," said her mother, "if you are not well, you would do better not to take any solid nourishment. I am going to make you an occasional small rice broth until you are recovered."

"I am not very fond of broth. Give me some rice. Let them bring it to me here. I shall eat it by and by."

"I will keep you company."

"Aya! If you do not go and look after this rabble of women, they will do their work most incontestably wrong."

Without understanding, the mother did indeed go to the next cabin at that moment when the breakfast was brought in. As soon as she had turned her back, Elegant told the slave to set down the dish on the table.

"You may go away. I shall call you when I have finished."

Ya-nei was watching, and came out from his hiding. On the dish there were only two small bowls of vegetables mixed with meat, a bowl of cooked green-stuff, and a little rice. Naturally, the young girl was not in the habit of taking large quantities of food; but for her lover, with his three bushels of rice a day, the matter was otherwise. After their meal, he again glided under the bed, nearly as hungry as before. She called the slave, and told her to bring in two more bowls of rice.

Her mother heard this, and entered, saying:

"My child! You are not well. How is it that you want to eat all that?"

"The reason is not far to seek," she answered.

"I am hungry, that is all."

And her father, who had come to see the invalid, said:

"Let her be. She is growing, and needs nourishment."

When night came, and the evening meal was finished, she shut the door and told her lover he could get into the bed again. But the poor young man was suffering cruelly from hunger.

"Our stratagem," said he, "is admirable. But it is in one respect also grievous. I cannot conceal from you that my appetite is considerable. The three meals which I have had to-day seem scarcely a mouthful. On such a diet, I shall starve before we come to Ch'i-Chow."

"Why did you not say so? I shall make them bring me more to-morrow."

"But are you not afraid of rousing suspicion?"

"That is nothing. I shall see to it. But how much would you need?"

"We shall never be able to obtain quite that. Ten bowls of rice at each meal would not be enough."

Next day, when her parents came to see her, Elegant complained.

"I do not know what is the matter with me," she said. "I am dying of hunger."

But her mother began to laugh:

"That is not a very serious affair. I will have more rice brought to you."

But when the young girl said that she needed about ten bowls, the good woman was startled. She again wished to remain near her daughter.

"If you stay here, mama, I shall not be able to take anything. Leave me alone, and I shall eat more comfortably."

Everybody indulged her caprice. When the cabin was empty, she shut the door and Ya-nei came out. Hungry as he was, he made the ten bowls vanish like a shooting star, and did not leave a single grain. Elegant watched him with astonishment, and asked him in a low voice:

"Is that still too little?"

"It will suffice," answered the other, drinking a cup of tea.

He hastened back to his hiding-place, while the young girl ate some vegetables. Then she called the slaves, who came running up, wondering whether she had been able to eat all that food. They looked at the empty bowls and at their mistress's slim figure, and murmured as they went away:

"What a terrible illness!"

One of them, in her anxiety, went to the father and showed him the dish, suggesting that he should call a doctor as soon as possible. And he, for his part, forbade them to give her so much another time, fearing that she would burst.

At mid-day he went himself to speak to her.

She began to weep: her mother took her part; and they gave way to her. The evening meal was just as large.

They were approaching Ch'i-Chow, and Ho Chang, who was really alarmed, ordered his boatmen to cast anchor near the town. Early in the morning he sent his steward to find the best doctor, and when the man arrived, brought him on board and explained the case to him. They then went to examine the invalid and to try her pulse. The doctor at length came back with the father into the central cabin.

"Well? What is the illness?"

The other coughed, and at last said:

"Your daughter is suffering from lack of nourishment."

Her father was staggered:

"But I have told you that she ate thirty bowls of rice yesterday."

"Yet, but your daughter is still a child. She is apparently fifteen years old, but that is equivalent to fourteen in reality, or even to thirteen and some months. Her food accumulates in her stomach, but is not assimilated. From this cause arises the fever which burns her stomach and makes her imagine herself to be always hungry. The more she eats, therefore, the more her stomach burns. In one month it will be too late to cure her, and she will die of hunger."

"But how is she to be cured?"

"First, I shall make her digest what she eats. Of course, she must eat very little indeed."

He wrote his prescription and went away. The servant went to get the drugs, which were dissolved and boiled according to direction, and finally presented to the young girl.

She said that she would take them, and as soon as she was alone threw them out of the port-hole. Thereafter she continued to ask for ten bowls of rice for every meal.

Every one on the ship was now discussing this extraordinary case. Some said that they ought to call in sorcerers. Others thought that religious men would do better, seeing that she had certainly been possessed by one of those starving spirits which wander without purpose in punishment for their sins, with a needle's eye for a mouth, seeking in vain for food.

At the next town, Ho Chang summoned another doctor. After his examination, mention was made of the former diagnosis, and he burst out laughing.

"Nothing of the sort. It is an internal consumption."

"But what, then, is the reason for this hunger?"

"The hot and the cold principles are at variance in her, and the resultant fire gives her continual opsomania. It is easy to understand."

"But she has no fever."

"Outside she is cool, but she burns within. The malady is inside the bones; and that is why it is not visible. If she had continued to take the drugs which you have been giving her, it would have been difficult to save her. I shall give her something to soothe her bowels. She will then, of her own accord, refuse all food."

It need not be said that it was the same in this case as in the other. All the medicines went down the river.

Meanwhile the two lovers continued to profit by the silence of the night. Naturally, the young girl was at first, so to speak, passive in the arms of the young man, who was himself bashful. But little by little, penetrating further into the domain of pleasure, their amorous intelligence redoubled with their rapture, and they forgot entirely where they were.

One night a slave woke up, and heard a "tsi-tsi-nung-nung" and a "tsia-tsia" coming from within, and then quick breathing. Inwardly surprised, she next day told her mistress, and the mother, seeing that her daughter was always of a brilliantly healthy complexion, began to think this unknown malady a very strange one. She did not inform her husband, however, but ran herself to see her daughter. The child's face seemed to her to be more beautiful and animated even than usual. She went out, without seeing anything which might confirm her suspicion, and, coming back again after breakfast, began gently to question her daughter on her ideas of marriage.

As they were talking, there suddenly came a snore from under the bed. Ya-nei, after his efforts in the night and his morning meal, had gone to sleep in his hiding-place.

Elegant's mother at once shut the door and, quickly stooping to look under the bed, saw the young man asleep.

"Alas, how could you do this thing? And then frighten us with your illness? Now everybody will know of it. Where does he come from? May Heaven strike him dead!"

Elegant's face was purple with shame.

"It is all your child's fault. He is the son of the Lord Wu."

"Ya-nei? But you have never seen him! Besides, he was at the dinner with your father, and we came away at midnight. How can he be here?"

Trusting in her mother's indulgence, the young girl confessed everything, and added:

"Your unworthy daughter has dishonored our name and lost her innocence. My crime is unpardonable. But it was the will of Heaven. There had to be that storm to make us meet, and then destiny prevented our betrothal. Our strength was too small for the struggle, and we have sworn to love each other until death. I implore you to speak to my father and appease him; for if he makes an uproar; there is nothing left for me but to die."

Her tears fell like rain. And, while they were talking, Ya-nei's snores sounded like thunder.

"At least make him keep quiet," cried the mother in a fury. "We can no longer hear ourselves speak."

And she went out, slamming the door, while Elegant hastened to awaken the sleeper.

"Really you might snore less loudly!" she said with impatience. "All is discovered now."

When he heard this, Ya-nei's body was frozen with terror as if he had received a drenching in cold water. His teeth chattered.

"Do not be afraid. I have asked my mother to speak for us. If my father is angry, there will be time enough for us to die then."

The woman meanwhile had hurried to her husband, but there was a slave with him, putting the cabin in order. So she waited, and the tears rolled from her eyes. Ho Chang thought she was anxious about her daughter's health, and reassured her:

"She will be better in a few days. The doctor said so. Do not disturb yourself."

But she sneered at him:

"You have been listening to the flower words of old Wise-Wand. Better in a few days! She would have to be ill first!"

"What do you mean?"

Since the servant was no longer there, she told him in a low voice what she had seen and heard. Ho Chang's anger was such that his sight was troubled. She begged him to calm himself.

"Enough! Enough!" he thundered. "This worthless daughter fouls the very air upon our threshold. We must kill them both in the night, so that none may know."

The woman's face became as the earth.

"We have already reached a ripe age, and this is the only flesh and bone we have. If you kill her, what will be left to us? As for Ya-nei, he is of a good family, he is intelligent, and well-built. Our stations are identical and our houses equal. His only fault is that he did not make a proposal, but rather forced everything in secret. Yet so the matter is. Would it not be better to send him back with a letter to Wu, requiring gifts of betrothal? We would lose all by making a scandal."

Ho Chang's rage was already half spent, and he now let himself be persuaded by degrees. He went out and asked the boatmen where they were.

"We are approaching Wu-ch'ang."

"You will anchor there."

He then called his confidential steward and, explaining all to him, gave him a letter. After this he went to see his daughter, who hid herself under the blanket when she beheld him. He spoke no word to her; but in a stern tone called out Ya-nei, who crept from his hiding-place, saluted the older man, and said:

"My crime deserves death."

"How could a young man of your education commit such an act? My wife has prevailed upon me to spare your life; but, if you would redeem your fault, you must take my unworthy daughter as your wife. If this is not your intention, do not count upon my pardon."

Ya-nei abased himself in ritual prostration.

"The honor which you do me is a reward which my conduct does not deserve," he said. "I shall speak to my parents as soon as I return."

Ho Chang hurried him away, without leaving him time to speak to the young girl again. She was clinging to her mother, and whispered:

"I do not know my father's intention. Could I not have a letter from Ya-nei on his arrival?"

Her truly indulgent mother went and spoke to the steward.

The latter had already hired a boat, and, as it was night, the intruder would be able to pass from one junk to the other without being observed. They set out, while Elegant wept incessantly for sorrow and uneasiness. We must now return to the family of Wu.

After the night of Ya-nei's departure, their boat had proceeded for several leagues before the young man's absence was noticed. But when they called for him, and his cabin was found empty, the souls of his parents left their bodies. They howled their despair, supposing that their child had fallen unobserved into the water.

They turned the ship about, hoping at least to recover the body; but all searching was in vain, and they had perforce to resume their journey in despair.

They had been at their destination for two days when Ya-nei arrived; you may suppose that their surprise was only equalled by their joy. They read Ho Chang's letter, and understood everything. They scolded their son, and made a feast for Ho Chang's envoy. When the betrothal gifts were ready, they sent them in charge of their steward, to whom Ya-nei entrusted a secret letter for his Elegant.

Soon the time came for Ya-nei's examination at the capital, and he was accepted. His father asked for a holiday, and the whole family went to Kien-K'ang, where the marriage was celebrated. The fame of Elegant's wisdom and beauty grew with the years, and the happiness of these two was never dimmed.

_Hsing shih heng yen (1627), 28th Tale._

A STRANGE DESTINY

In epochs of deep peace
When days are lengthening,
The flute sounds and songs are heard
Among the drunken villages.
The Phoenix Car is said to be approaching
With the Emperor,
And each one turns his eye
To the splendor of that procession.

In the reign of Hui Tsung of the Sung dynasty, near the capital of the East, on the borders of the Lake of Clearness of Gold, a new wine pavilion had just been opened, under the sign of The Quick Hedge. Fan, the landlord, and his brother Erh-lang, were the proprietors. Neither of them was married; and their business prospered.

It was the week when Spring melts into Summer, and men walk abroad in number to enjoy the freshness and beauty of nature.

One day Erh-lang roamed the lakeside, delighting in the soft air, and saw, in front of a teahouse, a ravishing girl of about eighteen, in whose face, which was as dreamful as the Night Star, flowered all the blossoms of the time. He stopped, fixed to the ground with admiration and already riotous with love. He could not take his eyes from the rose radiance of this face, peach blossom against flawless jade; from this slender body, from the rare golden lotus of these delicate feet. A scarlet hibiscus in flower framed this phoenix against stirring landscape of the great lake.

Alas! our emotions do not depend upon our will. The young girl felt herself looked upon, and raised her eyes; her soul was at once troubled, her child's heart secretly rejoiced. She thought:

"If I could marry this beautiful man, I should know many happy moments. But, though he is there now, where will he be tomorrow? How can I tell him how to find me again?"

Just then a seller of refreshments came by with his small vessels on his shoulder. She called him:

"Have you a little honey-water?"

The merchant set down a bronze vase on the ground to serve her; but she, with pretended clumsiness, upset the vase, and said to him: "Never mind! Come to my house and I will pay for all. I will give you my name and address."

Erh-lang pricked his ears, as she continued: "I am the daughter of Lord Chou, who lives near the Ts'ao Gate. My little name is Victorious-Immortal. And I pray you do not charge too much, for I am not yet betrothed or married."

The young lover trembled with joy, saying to himself:

"These words are meant for me, I am sure of that."

The merchant was meanwhile protesting, and the young girl added:

"My father is not at home just now. But he is terrible, and you will undoubtedly be prosecuted if you try to rob us."

Erh-lang earnestly desired to make himself known in his turn, and being unable to think of any other expedient, he did as the girl had done: asked for a bowl of cool water, and pretended clumsily to upset the full jar. He then said: "Aya! Here is another misfortune! But it does not matter. Come to my house, and you shall be well recompensed. I am Erh-lang, brother of Fan. We are proprietors of THE PAVILION OF THE QUICK HEDGE. I am nineteen, and no one has yet cheated me in my business, I can draw a bow, and am not yet betrothed."

"Are you not a little mad?" asked the merchant, looking at him in astonishment. "Why do you tell me all that? Do you wish me to act as the go-between for your marriage? I am an honest man, and have never cheated anybody."

Hearing her admirer's words, the girl rejoiced in her heart. She suggested to her mother, who was sitting by her, that they should go away; and rising to her feet, said to the merchant: "If you will follow us, we will pay you at once."

But her eyes spoke in reality to the young man; who walked slowly behind her, admiring the poise of her gait. In this manner they proceeded until the two women entered their house. But the young girl came back almost at once to draw aside the big door-curtain and to look out at him as he passed. He went on walking to and fro, as if he had lost his senses, and did not return to his house till evening.

From that particular day Victorious-Immortal remained so strangely affected that she was quite unable to swallow a grain of rice, or even to touch a cake. At last, one morning, she was too weak to rise. Her mother ran to her bed.

"My poor child," she asked, "what is the matter with you?"

"I ache all over my body. I have pains in my head and cough a little."

Her mother at once thought of calling in a doctor; but, in the absence of the master of the house and his servant, there was no man to go on the errand. But an old female attendant, named Kind-Welcome, was present and observed:

"The ancient woman Wang lives, as you know, quite close at hand. She has helped more than a hundred children into the world. She can sew, and she can act as go-between; but she can also feel a pulse and diagnose an illness. Everybody calls her as soon as there is anything the matter."

"That is true. Go and fetch her quickly."

Some few moments later the healer came and the mother began a long explanation. But the woman interrupted her:

"I shall know all about it when I have examined the patient."

The sick girl put out a wasted hand, and the woman felt her pulse for a long time. At last she said:

"You have pains in the head, and all your body aches. You are in continual agony, and the earth is hateful to you."

"That is exactly the case," she answered from her bed. "Also I cough a little."

"But what has caused this illness?"

As the girl did not answer, this wise old visitor turned to the mother and the attendant, and signed them to go away. They dared not refuse, and left the room.

"Now we are going to cure you. The illness lies in your heart, and nowhere else."

"In my heart?" questioned the sick girl.

"You have seen a handsome young man, and he pleases you. Your suffering rises from that; is it not so?"

"There is nothing of the sort," denied the other.

"Come, come! Tell me the truth, and I will soon find a means to save your life."

Seeing a chance to reach to her desire, little Victorious-Immortal decided to tell everything. When she had finished, the very old woman said:

"Do not be troubled. I know one of his relations who has spoken to me of him. He is intelligent and level-headed. I shall go and see his brother, to make arrangements for your marriage, if you finally wish to marry him."

"You know very well that I do," said the sick child with a smile. "But will my mother consent?"

"Do not be uneasy. I have my methods."

She was already out of the room, and saying to the mother:

"I know what is the matter with your daughter. If you would like me to make it clear to you, have two cups of wine brought in."

Kind-Welcome made haste to arrange all on the table. The healer drank a draught of burning wine and, turning to the mother, repeated word for word what the girl had confessed to her, adding:

"And now there is nothing for it but to marry her to Erh-lang, for otherwise her death is certain."

"My husband will be away for a long time yet. I cannot decide without him."

"You have only to make the arrangements. You need not celebrate the marriage until after my Lord's return. She must be given her desire; there is no other way of saving her."

"If the young man is as desirable as all that ..." the mother murmured uneasily. "But how shall we bring the thing about?"

"I am going to speak to his elder brother. I will keep you informed."

Without further delay, the venerable go-between went straight to The Pavilion of the Quick Hedge, where she found Fan behind his counter, and saluted him:

"Ten thousand happinesses!"

"You come at the right time," he answered with a bow. "I was about to send to beg you to do so. For some days, I assure you, my brother has not been able to take a morsel of food. He says that his whole body is aching, and now he stays in bed. Will you, please, feel his pulse?"

"I will see him. But it is better for me to be alone with him."

"Then I shall not come with you."

So the old woman went up into the sick man's room, and he said to her feebly:

"Mother Wang, it is very long since I saw you. Alas! You come too late! My life is finished!"

"In what special way are you so seriously ill?" she asked, sitting near the bed and touching his wrist.

After a moment she continued:

"Shall I tell you the name of your illness? It is called Victorious-Immortal, little daughter of Chou, and her house is near the Ts'ao Gate."

The sick man was startled and sat up:

"How do you know that?"

"Her family has commissioned me to come and arrange your marriage."

Immediate happiness revived the young man.

He rose and came down with the wise visitor to his astonished brother.

"I am cured," he announced, "And all goes very well."

Meanwhile the old woman was saying: "The family of Chou has sent me especially to talk to you about a marriage."

All was soon settled, the first gifts were exchanged, and the comforted hearts of the two young people were filled with joy. But they had to wait Lord Chou's return before proceeding with the ceremony.

Chou did not come back until eight months later. It is needless to say that, when he did so, all his relations and friends came to drink cups of wine with him to "wash down the dust of the journey." At last his wife told him what had happened, affirming that all was decided. But the eyes of the master of the house became round and white, and he bellowed:

"O filthy imbecile, who gave you the right to betroth our daughter to a wine merchant? Is there no son of decent family who would marry her? Do you wish to make us a laughing-stock?"

While he was thus cursing his wife, the servant came up to them, crying:

"Come quickly and save the child! She was behind the door, and heard your cries. She fell down and is no longer breathing."

Stumbling in her haste, the mother ran out. She saw her daughter lying on the ground and was about to raise her, but her husband prevented her, saying:

"Leave her! She was bringing dishonor on us! If she is to die, then let her die!"

Seeing her mistress held back, Kind-Welcome bent over the girl. But Chou, with a blow that made the air whistle between his fingers sent her against the wall. In his rage, he seized his wife and shook her roughly, and she howled like a dog. The neighbors heard her and ran in, fearing that there was disaster. Soon the room was filled with women, all talking at the same time. But the master of it roughly bade them be silent:

"I do not allow any spying upon my private affairs."

The neighbors retired in discomfort, and the mother threw herself upon her daughter's body, whose ends were already cold. She sobbed:

"You would not have died if I had come to you. O murderer, you have let her die of set purpose. You did not want to give her the four or five thousand ounces which her grandfather left her."

He went out, panting like a boar with anger. The mother did not cease to lament her loss: her daughter had been so gentle and so clever. At length the time came to shut down the coffin, and Chou angrily said to his wife:

"You pretend that I let her die so as not to lose four thousand ounces? I order you to put all her jewels in the tomb with her. That is more than five thousand ounces, one would think."

They brought in the wu-tso, the Inspector of Corpses, and also his assistant, to verify the death and to help in hearsing her. The keeper of the family graveyard and his brother, the two Chang, were also there to assist in the mournful work.

The time came for the funeral, and the procession went forth from the town. The coffin was placed in a brick tomb, and the first shovels of earth were thrown upon it. Then all returned home. Three feet of cold insensitive earth covered the body of this young beauty, and it had been full of love.

Now the Inspector of Corpses had a worthless fellow named Feng for his assistant. This miserable boy, on coming back from the cemetery in the evening, said to his mother: "An excellent day's work! Tomorrow we shall be rich."

"And what successful stroke of business have you concluded?"

"Today we buried the daughter of Chou, and all her jewels were put in the coffin with her. Instead of leaving them to enrich the earth, would it not be better to take them?"

"Think before you do such a terrible thing!" his mother begged. "This is no matter of a mere whipping. Your father wanted to do the same thing twenty years ago. He opened a coffin, and the corpse began to smile at him. Your father died of that in four or five days. My son, do not do it. It is no easy matter."

"Mother," he answered simply, "my mind is made up. Do not waste your breath on me, for that is useless."

He bent over his bed, and took out of it a heavy iron tool.

"O mother, not each person's destiny is the same. I have consulted soothsayers, and they have told me that I shall become rich this year."

He took also an axe, a leather sack, and a dark lantern, which he placed in readiness. Finally he wrapped himself in a great mantle of reeds, for it was the eleventh moon and the snow had begun to fall. He made a sort of hurdle with about ten inter-crossed bamboos, and fastened it behind his mantle, so that it should drag along the ground and efface his foot-prints.

The second watch was sounding when he went out, and all was still bustle and gaiety in the town. But beyond the walls both silence and solitude reigned in the growing cold. The snow was already thick. Who would have ventured out there?

From time to time he turned his head, but no one followed him. At last he reached the wall of the family graveyard and climbed in. Suddenly a dog ran through the tall grass and leaped at him, barking. The thief had prepared a portion of poisoned meat, and threw it to the dog. The beast, being badly fed, smelt it and swallowed it. He still barked a little, but the venom was potent, and he very soon writhed on the ground.

In the keeper's hut, young Chang said to his elder brother:

"The dog has started barking, and then has stopped. Is that not strange? Perhaps it is a thief. You ought to go and see."

The elder brother rose from his hot bed and took up a weapon, grumbling. Then he opened the door and went out. But he was seized by a whirl of cold snow, and called to the dog: "What are you barking for, O animal of the Gods?"

Then he came back and glided under his blankets.

"There is nothing at all. But it is very cold."

From the distant town came the far sound of the gongs and drums of the third watch. Taking heart, Feng went forward in a snow which deadened his steps. He quickly shovelled the fresh earth from the grave, and then lighted his lantern. Its yellow light lit up but a single point. Forcing two long crowbars between the joints, he loosened one brick, and then another. At last the coffin was uncovered. He inserted his pick under the lid, and pried it off and laid it on one side. The corpse was brought to view.

"Small sister," he murmured. "I am only going to borrow a little of your useless wealth. Do not you grudge it me!"

He took the veil from that charming face. The head was covered with ornaments of gold, and also with pearls. He took them all. He was tempted by the fine and silken garments of the corpse. He stripped it.

But suddenly, the body shook itself and pushed the thief away with violence. He uttered a cry of imbecile terror and shrank back. The corpse had sat up and, in that little light, looked at the open tomb, the scattered tools, and her own unclothed body. The wretched lad, obeying instinctive habit, trembled and lied:

"Little sister, I have come to save you."

Naturally, when little Victorious-Immortal had heard the foul Chou's violent words, her despair had made her lose all sign of life. It was for this reason that she had been put in her coffin while still alive. Aroused now by the cold, her first thought was to remember her father's anger. Her only refuge then was the house of her betrothed, and she said: "If you will take me to The Pavilion of the Quick Hedge, you may have a heavy reward."

"That is easy," answered Feng, seeking in vain for how he should escape.

Ought he to kill her? He hardly had the courage after such a shock. He decided to give her back a few clothes. He put the jewels and his implements in the sack, together with the extinguished lantern, and quickly covered the grave with earth again. Then, because the girl was too weak to walk, he took her on his back and went away from that place. But instead of going to Fan's house, he went to his own. His mother opened the door to him, and cried in terror:

"Have you stolen the corpse also?"

"Do not speak so loud," he answered, setting down his burdens.

He went to his bed, and there put little Victorious-Immortal. He drew a knife from his girdle and showed it to the girl:

"Little one, I have some business to settle with you. If we come to an agreement, I will take you to Fan's house. If not, you very well behold this knife, and I shall cut you in two pieces."

"What do you want with me?" she asked.

"You are going to stay here without making a noise and without trying to escape, until I take you to Fan. As for the rest, we will speak of it another time."

"I will do so! I will indeed do so!"

Then the nasty youth led his mother into the next room to calm her a little.

"But what are you going to do?" she asked.

"Do you think we can be safe when she has gone to Fan?"

"I am not going to take her to Fan."

"What are you going to do, then?"

He gave a country laugh, full of suggestion.

* * * * *

Matters so continued until the fifteenth day of the first Moon, the evening of the Feast of Lanterns. Feng went out to see the illuminations, and also to profit by the opportunities for theft which are always afforded in a crowd. The evening wore on, and he had not yet returned, when a shout arose among the neighbors. Feng's mother opened the door to see what was the matter. A fire had broken out near there. In terror, the old woman made haste to carry her furniture into the yard. Profiting by this confusion, the girl slipped through the door; but in the street she did not know which way to turn. At last she found the road to the Ts'ao Gate, and was running in that direction when she lost herself again. However, when at length she asked where The Pavilion of the Quick Hedge might be, she was shown a near way to it.

The attendant was before the door, and she asked him very politely:

"Ten thousand happinesses! Is not this the house of Fan and Erh-lang?"

"Certainly it is, small lady."

"Could you not lead me to him?"

"Assuredly," he answered.

He showed her the way, calling from the door to his masters; but when Erh-lang, in the pale light of the paper lanterns, recognized the white face of his betrothed, he cried out in dismay: "Ghost! Ghost!"

Confident in her love, she advanced toward him piteously repeating:

"Elder brother! Elder brother! I am alive!"

But he kept recoiling in terror, and crying: "Help! Help!"

How could he fail to believe himself in the presence of a ghost, when he had witnessed the funeral, and had, that very evening, encountered the wife of Chou in mourning garments?

As she was about to touch him and, cringing against the wall, he could retreat no further, his terror redoubled. Not knowing what he did, he picked up a heavy stool and struck his dear visitor on the head with it. She fell back, and her head sounded dully on the stone flags.

Fan ran up at the noise of this. He saw the woman on the ground, and his brother holding the stool.

"What have you done?" he cried. "What is the matter? Was it you who killed her?"

"She is a ghost," the other said.

"If she were a ghost, she would not bleed. What have you done?"

Already some ten persons had come up to see what was the matter. The street guard came in to them and seized Erh-lang, who kept on saying: "She is the ghost of Chou's daughter. I have killed her."

Hearing this name, a neighbor ran to inform Chou, who would not at first believe him. At length he decided to go to the wine pavilion, where he was compelled to recognize her, though he kept on saying:

"I buried her long since!"

Nevertheless, the guard insisted upon leading Erh-lang to prison. Fan had the doors shut then, and stayed with Chou by the corpse till morning.

Early next day the Governor inquired into the matter. The coffin was opened. It was found empty, and the keepers told how their dog had been found dead in the snow on the day after the funeral. In the absence of any completer explanation, they proceeded with their inquiry.

Erh-lang, in his prison, was overcome with sorrowful remorse. Sometimes he said that she could not have survived her burial; sometimes he was rent with horror at the thought that she had been alive when he struck her. He recalled her beauty and grace in Spring by the lake side, and bitter tears rolled from him. While he was musing in this way, he saw his cell door open, and the girl appeared. In his emotion and fear, he cried:

"Are you not dead, my darling?"

"Your blow caused me more grief than harm. Now I have wakened, and have come to see you."

She approached the bench where he sat, and he took her hand:

"How can I have been so foolish as to fear you?"

They were talking thus, and already, in their deep love, they were in each other's arms. His joy was so keen that suddenly he woke. It was a dream.

On the second night the same thing happened, and on the third, and his passion grew stronger for her. As she was going away the third time, she said:

"My life on earth had come to an end, but my love was so great and so potently called me to you, that the Marshal-of-the-Five-Ways, the Keeper-of-the-Frontier-of-the-Shadows, allowed me to come back to you, for these three nights. I must leave you now. But, if you do not forget, there will yet be something of me bound to your soul."

Then she disappeared, and the young man sobbed most bitterly.

In the end the matter was cleared up by chance. Feng's mother, having filched a golden trifle from her son's bag, went to sell it to the same jeweler who had made it for Chou. On being denounced before the Governor, mother and son were apprehended, and all the jewels were discovered in their house. Torture found them words, and the whole matter became clear. Erh-lang had actually believed that he saw a ghost, and was released. Feng was sentenced to slow death, and strips were torn one by one from his body by the executioner. His mother was only strangled.

As for Erh-lang, his heart stayed faithful to the girl he had so greatly loved. At every feast he went to the temple of the Marshal-of-the-Five-Ways, and burned incense, so that the pleasant smoke of it might ascend to the palace of the soul of little Victorious-Immortal. His fidelity touched even the rough heart of Chou and, when he came to die a few years later, his body was buried in the same tomb with her whom his arms had known only in sleep.

_Nao fan lou to ch'ing sheng hsien (Chou Victorious-Immortal, of abundant love, overthrows the Pavilion of the Fan). Hsing shih heng yen (1627), 14th Tale._

THE ERROR OF THE EMBROIDERED SLIPPER

The sun is in our eyes
And we think we are running out towards joy;
Our heart pulls us down
And we shall never know the way of the sky
Or the end of all things.

During the Hung-Chih period of our Dynasty there lived at Hang-chow a young man who was called Chang Loyalty. After his parents died, leaving him a great fortune, he no longer had anyone to guide him, and therefore, throwing away his books, he spent his time with gallants of the sort we name fou-lang-tzu, that is to say "floating-on-the-waves." They do not know how to profit by opportunity. So Chang no longer studied anything but various ball games, he abandoned himself to the pleasures of the theatre, and took his delight in those gardens where the breezes of love blow in the moonlight. In a word, he followed the changing flowers of illusion; and, as he was himself seductive, as impassioned as expert in pleasure, and rich and generous, he became the favorite of all the women of the town. One day, when spring had but just caused all the flowers to come out on the amiable banks of the Lake of the West, Chang invited a company of singing girls and idlers to spend the afternoon on the blue waters.

He put on a gauze bonnet with floating wings, after the fashion of the time. His great transparent silk robe was of purple and silver, over a second embroidered one of pure white. White gauze stockings and red slippers completed the elegance of his appearance.

He went out, walking unhurriedly, gently waving a fan decorated with paintings. Behind him walked his little slave, Clear-Lute, who carried over his shoulder a mantle in case the weather should freshen, and a long guitar with which to accompany the singing girls.

As they were approaching the gate of Ch'ien-t'ang, Chang looked up, for no particular reason. On the first story of a house a maiden held back her window curtain and looked at him. From her whole person emanated so troubling a charm that he stopped in his walk, and felt a tremor in his body. For a long time they remained gazing at each other, until she slowly broke into a smile, and he felt his soul fly from him.

At this moment the door of the house opened below, and a man came forth; so Chang hastened to resume his walk, and returned in a few moments. The curtain was drawn back over the window. He waited, but there was no sign. At length he drew away, turning his head, and walking as slowly as if he had already gone a hundred leagues on the mountains.

Yet eventually he passed the town gate and rejoined his friends on the boat, which was at once steered to the middle of the lake. The banks were smiling with peach blossom: the willow leaves were a mist of gold and green. Little boats, with brightly-dressed passengers, crossed and re-crossed like ants. In very truth:

Hills are heaped upon hills
And the pavilions on the pavilions.
The songs and dances are never ceasing
On the West Lake.
The warm breeze fans the drunkenness
Of the pleasure walkers.
Heaven is above,
But here we have Hang-chow and Su-chow Lakes.

But Chang carried the picture of that young girl in his soul, and had no heart for pleasure.

His companions offered him cups of wine, wondering at his melancholy; but he was far from them.

At twilight they returned, and Chang re-entered by the Ch'ien-t'ang gate, passing before the girl's house. The window was shut. He stopped, and forced a cough; but there was no sign. He went to the end of the street, and came back again, but all was silent. Therefore he had no choice but to go away.

He returned next morning, and stayed at a shop near by to learn what he could. He was told:

"They are people called P'an. Their only daughter is sixteen years of age, and is named Eternal Life. The father has some connection with a certain powerful family which affords him protection. He lives by swindling, and everyone fears him. He is a veritable skin-pinker and bravo."

This news made Chang a little thoughtful, but he walked on by the house nevertheless. The young girl was again at her window. They looked at each other; but there were people about, and he had to go away.

That evening, as soon as night fell, he went back. The moon was shining as brightly as the sun, and the street was empty. The youthful beauty leaned at her window, wrapped in thought and bathed in the white light. She smiled at him, and he drew from his sleeve his scarlet muslin handkerchief. He made the knot known as "union of hearts gives victory." Rolling it in a ball, he threw it, and she adroitly caught it in two hands. Then she stooped and took off one of her little embroidered slippers. She dropped it into Chang's waiting fingers. Enraptured with this gift, which was a pledge of love and faith, he carried it to his lips and said softly:

"Thank you; Thank you, with all my heart!"

In tones of maddening sweetness, she replied:

"Ten thousand happinesses!"

Just then a rough voice was heard within the house. She made another sign to him and closed the window. And he went home drunk through silent streets made silver by the moon. Once in his library, he examined the slipper. It was a golden lotus, so small and so light that a thousand thoughts troubled the lover. He said:

"I must find someone to arrange our meeting, or else die from an over-stressing of desire."

Early in the morning, he put some pieces of silver in his sleeve and hastened to a little wine booth, not far from the house of P'an. He knew that he would find an old woman there, whom he often met in pleasurable places. In fact, he saw her and called to her. She at once saluted him, saying:

"Aya! My uncle, what brings you?"

"I happened to be passing," he answered carelessly.

"But I should like you to walk a little way with me."

"In what can I serve you?" she hastened to ask.

Without speaking, he took her into a quiet little tavern. When they were seated, and the attendant had brought them fruit and dishes of food, he poured out a full cup of hot wine and offered it to her, saying:

"I have something to ask of you, ma-ma Lu. But I am afraid that you cannot accomplish it."

"Without boasting," she answered with a wide smile, "there are few enterprises, however difficult, in which I do not succeed. What is it you desire?"

"I want you to arrange a meeting for me with the daughter of P'an, who lives in the Street of the Ten Officials. Here are five ounces of silver to begin with. If you succeed, you shall have quite as much more."

"The small Eternal Life? The little witch! I thought her so demure! I should never have imagined she was a wild flower. But the matter is difficult. There are only the parents and the daughter in that house, and the father is dangerous. He keeps a damnably suspicious watch over his door. How could you get in? I dare not promise any success."

"You have just boasted that you always succeed. Here are two ounces more."

The old woman's eyes gleamed like fire at the sight of the snow-colored metal, and she said:

"I will take the risk. If all goes well, it will be your fortune. If not, I shall at least have done my best. But give me a proof, for otherwise she would not listen to me."