Chapter III: Part 3

Not without regret, Chang took from his bosom the little slipper, and gave it to her, wrapped in his handkerchief. The old woman at once slipped it into her sleeve with the pieces of money. As she was leaving him, she said again:

"The affair is delicate. You must have patience and not hurry me. That would be dangerous."

"I only ask you to do your best. Come and tell me as soon as you have an answer."

Eternal Life was profoundly agitated. Since that moonlit night she had had no more taste for food, but had said:

"If I married him I would not have lived in vain. But I know neither his name nor where he lives. When I saw him beneath the moon, why had I not wings to fly to him? ... As it is, I had only this red handkerchief."

Yet she had to live and speak as usual. But as soon as she was alone she fell again into her musing.

Two days later, old Lu entered their house. The father had gone out. The visitor said to mother and daughter:

"I received certain artificial flowers yesterday, and have come to show them to you."

She took a bunch of a thousand shades out of her basket.

"Would you not say they were real?"

"When I was young," said the mother, "we only wore ordinary flowers, and did not dream of marvels like these."

"Yet these are only considered mediocre. But the price of the finest is so high."

"If we cannot buy them, we can at least admire them," the young girl answered dryly.

With gathering smiles, the old woman took from the basket a bunch which was indeed incomparable.

"And what is the price of that?" questioned the mother.

"How should I dare to fix a price? I leave it to you. But if you have a little tea, I would willingly drink of it."

"In the admiration caused by your flowers, we have forgotten our manners. Wait for one moment, while I fetch some boiling water."

As soon as the mother had left the room, the woman took a slight parcel from her sleeve.

"What have you there?" asked Eternal Life.

"Something important which you must not see."

"Oh, but I must see it then."

"I shall not give it to you," said the cunning old woman. "Aya! You have taken it from me by force!" she added, letting the parcel into the girl's hand.

Impatiently the child untied the handkerchief, and recognized her slipper. Her face flushed into scarlet, and she said with difficulty: "A single one of these objects is of no use, ma-ma. Why did you show it me?"

"I know a certain Lord who would give his life to have the pair. Will you not consent to help me?"

Trembling all over, Eternal Life said to her softly:

"Since you know all, tell me his name and where he lives."

"He is called Chang, and he owns a hundred myriads of ounces. He is very gentle; his love is as deep as the sea. He has lost his soul through thinking of you, and has bidden me arrange a means for his entry."

"How can it be done? My father is terrible. When I have blown out my lamp, he often comes to look into the rooms. What is your plan, ma-ma?"

The old woman thought for a minute, and then said:

"It is not very difficult. You must go to bed early and, as soon as your father has come up and gone down again, you must rise quietly and open the window. You must wait for a signal, and let down a long piece of cloth. He will climb up with the help of this rope, and, if he is careful to go away before the fifth watch, no one will surprise you."

"Admirable!" cried the delighted child. "When will he come?"

"It is too late to-day. But I will go to him to-morrow morning. Give me a pledge of re-assurance for him."

"Assuredly! Take the other slipper. He will give it back to me to-morrow."

The old woman hid it in her sleeve, for the mother came in by this time with the tea. Soon after, she took up her basket and went away, accompanied to the door by the two women.

She went straight to the house of Chang, but he was out. She offered her flowers to the women of the house, waiting for some part of the day in vain.

Next morning she went again to find the young man, but he had not returned. She went away thoughtful.

The truth is that Chang had remained three days in the house of a Flower-in-the-Mist. When he returned and heard of the old woman's two visits, he hastened to find her. She said to him:

"The pledge of love which you entrusted to me is in her hand. She bade me tell you that her father is dangerous, but that he is to be away for a long time shortly. She will inform us." On his return journey the young man passed by P'an's house. Eternal Life was at her window, and they smiled tenderly at one another.

* * * * *

Three months had passed. Chang was sitting one morning in his library, when his servants told him that four police officers had come with a summons. He asked himself fearfully whether he had been mixed up in any scandal at a pleasure house; but he had to obey. He questioned the officers.

"It is a matter of taxes and duties," they answered.

Reassured, he changed his clothes and went with them, followed by several of his servants. He was taken at once to the hall where the Court sat, and, standing before the red table, he saluted the magistrate. The latter looked at him intently, and harshly asked:

"How did you enter into an intrigue with P'an's daughter? How did you kill her father and her mother?"

Chang was a libertine. That is to say he had neither strength nor energy. Hearing himself thus unexpectedly accused of a double crime, he shook from head to foot, as if a bolt had fallen on him from a calm sky. He stammered:

"Although I had the intention of establishing a connection with her, I have not yet succeeded in doing so. As yet I have not known her house."

The Governor thundered:

"She has just confessed that her relation with you has lasted several months. How dare you deny it?"

Just then Chang perceived that the young girl was kneeling close to him. Bewildered and not knowing what to do, he turned to Eternal Life and asked:

"How can you say that I have been intimate with you? With what object are you trying to encompass my ruin?"

She sobbed without answering. Meanwhile the Governor called upon the officers to apply the buskin of torture to the young man. And they swarmed about him like ants.

Unhappily for him, Chang Loyalty had been brought up in muslin and gauze, and had grown to manhood in a brocade. How could he endure such torture? Hardly had he felt the pressure of the buskin before he cried:

"I confess everything!"

The Governor had a brush and paper given to the accused, that he might himself write out his confession. The unhappy man wept, saying:

"What must I write? I know nothing of the matter!" Then he turned to the young girl and added: "Do you at least tell me what you have done, so that I may write my confession."

Eternal Life answered in irritation: "Did you not look at me with lecherous eyes under my window? Did you not throw your handkerchief? Did you not match the pair of my embroidered slippers?"

"All that is true. But about the rest?"

The Governor here interrupted:

"If one thing is true, the rest is also. What is the use of arguing it? Since he refuses to write, let him be given thirty strokes of the heavy bamboo, let him be cast into the cell for those who are condemned to death."

Happily for Chang, his gaolers knew that he was very rich. They but touched him with their blows, and led him to prison with as much care as they would a butterfly. Each of them cried:

"Uncle, how could you do such a thing?"

"O my elder brothers," he lamented, "if it is true that I desired this girl, yet have I never met her. Do you believe that I could be a murderer? I know nothing about the murder. Tell me of it."

So he learned that, this very morning, Eternal Life on waking up had been surprised by the silence of the house. From the ground-floor room where she had passed the night, she had gone up to the story where her parents slept, and had opened the door of their room. In front of the bed, under the half-drawn curtains, the floor was a tarn of blood.

She was so frightened that she tumbled down the stairs and fell upon the street door, sobbing and crying out. Neighbors heard her and ran up, and she said to them:

"Yesterday, my parents went up to their room. I do not know who has killed them both."

The bolder ones went up the stairs to see. They opened the bed-curtains, and there were the man and his wife, stiff and with their throats cut across. They looked to right and left. The window was shut, and nothing was disturbed.

"It is a serious matter," they muttered. "Let us not act hastily."

One of them went at once to warn the district chief of police, who came and examined the scene of the crime. He shut and sealed the house, and led Eternal Life to the Governor's Court. The girl knelt down and told all that she knew, and the Governor said:

"If the door and windows were closed, and nothing has been stolen, the matter is dubious. Had your father an enemy?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"That is strange!" murmured the Governor, and thought for a moment.

Suddenly he told the officers to take off the silken veil with which the young girl had half-covered her head. He could then see her exceptional beauty.

"How old are you? Are you not betrothed?"

"I am seventeen, and I am still free."

"And you sleep on the ground-floor, while your parents have their room above? That is very curious."

"Until quite recently your slave slept above. But fifteen days ago they made a change. I do not know why."

The judge again reflected. Then he struck the table violently, crying out:

"It is you who have killed your father and mother. Or, rather, it is your lover. Tell me his name."

"Your slave never leaves the house. How could she have a forbidden love? Would not the neighbors know it?"

The judge made a salacious grimace:

"In a case of murder the neighbors know nothing. It is clear that you have had relations with a man. Your parents knew of it, and that is why they changed their room. Your lover killed them in a rage."

Hearing these words, she became scarlet and then pale. At a sign from the Governor, the gaolers threw themselves like tigers upon the little girl, closing a cruel pair of iron nippers on her pellucid and delicate jade hand. As the jaws began to crush her fingers, she uttered loud cries:

"Mercy, my lord. I have a lover."

"What is his name?"

"Chang Loyalty."

And then she fainted. The Governor knew enough. He summoned the young man and, being convinced of his guilt, had him put in prison, while awaiting further information. It is well said in a certain proverb: "Even while you are sitting in your house with the doors shut, misfortune falls from heaven."

In prison, Chang reflected upon this sudden accusation. Could he have committed this double crime in his sleep? In the end he offered his gaolers ten ounces if they would take him to Eternal Life. When they bargained, he promised twenty ounces. Then they led him as far as the grill of the women's prison. The girl was there, weeping without stint. As soon as she saw him, she reviled him between her sobs:

"Ungrateful and dishonorable! You made me mad with love for you. Why should you cut my parents' throats, and cause my death?"

"Do not make unnecessary noise," he interrupted.

"Let us rather try to clear up this mystery. It is certain that I sent the old woman Lu to you with your little slipper. Did you see her?"

"Naturally, wretch," she answered disdainfully.

Again he interrupted:

"She told me that you had kept your pledge, that your father was terrible, and that you were awaiting his departure in order to arrange a meeting. But since then I have known nothing of you, save a few rare smiles."

"Forgetful murderer," she groaned, "again you deny it. Did you not confess all before the judge? Why do you come to torment me."

"My unfortunate body could not endure the torture. By confessing I gained some days of life. Do not fly into a rage, but answer me: what happened after ma-ma Lu had visited you?"

"We arranged everything for the next night. You came and gave me back my slipper. Since then you have climbed up to my room each night. Dare you say it is not true?"

Chang thought deeply. The bystanders wondered whether he were guilty and seeking a clever explanation to save himself, or whether he were really innocent. At last he said: "Then if we have met often, you should be very certain of my voice and body. Look at me well, and think."

The gaolers exclaimed:

"What he says is just. If there were a mistake, would you leave him to die?"

Eternal Life was puzzled, and looked at him earnestly. He repeated:

"Is it I? Dear heart, speak quickly!"

"He who came," she said at last, "was perhaps bigger. But it was always dark, and how can I be sure? But I remember that on your left shoulder you have a scar as big as a copper piece."

The bystanders at once exclaimed:

"That is easy to verify. There can be no further mistake. Uncle, unclothe yourself quickly. If there is nothing there, we shall inform the Governor."

Chang immediately uncovered his shoulder, and the white flesh was as smooth as marble. Eternal Life could not believe her eyes. When the young man had gone back, filled full of hope, to his prison, the gaolers made their report to the Governor, who had already summoned ma-ma Lu.

In the audience chamber the old woman knelt down and was quite overcome. The judge began by ordering her forty strokes for having acted as an abettor of corruption. The flesh of her thighs was nothing but a bloody paste. She told the whole story.

After coming back from Chang's house without having seen him, old Lu had found her son Wu-han in their little food shop. He had said to her:

"You come at the right time. I must kill a pig this morning, and our assistant has gone out for the day."

The old woman did not like this work. But she was very much afraid of her son, and did not dare to refuse.

"Wait till I have changed my clothes!" was all she said.

While she was taking off her outer garment, a parcel fell from the sleeve of it. Thinking that it was money, Wu-han quickly picked it up and opened it. It was the pair of embroidered slippers. He said:

"Oh! Oh! Who is the little girl who has such feet? She must be of a very loving nature. If I could hold her to my heart for a whole night, I should not have lived in vain. But how do these slippers come here, for they have already been worn?"

"Give them back to me!" she cried. "There is much money in them, which I will hand to you." And she told him the whole matter. But he objected:

"It has been a common saying from the earliest times that acts not committed can alone remain unknown. This P'an is a bravo. If he learns of the matter, all the silver which you receive will be too little to buy his silence. Our whole shop would fall into his hands."

In dismay the old woman replied:

"Your words are full of reason. I am going to give back the silver and the slippers. I am going to let it be understood that I refuse to embroil myself with curtain affairs."

"Where is the silver?" he asked.

The old woman took it from her sleeve, and he put it into his, saying:

"Leave all to me. If they should happen to come and seek a quarrel with us, we shall have proofs against them. And, if nothing comes of it, no one will dare to reclaim the money."

"But what shall I say if he asks me for news?"

"That you have not had time enough. Or even that the matter cannot be arranged."

What could she do, she who was thus deprived of the money and the pledge of love? She was surely obliged to lie.

As for Wu-han, he at once went out and spent the money on rich clothes and a fine gauze bonnet.

In the evening, when his mother was asleep, he put on his pretty clothes and set the slippers in his sleeve. As the great clock sounded the first watch, he went out softly and made straight for the house of P'an. Light clouds were hiding the moon. It was only half full.

He coughed before the house. The window opened, and Eternal Life appeared. She tied a piece of silk to the frame, and let the other end fall. He caught it and climbed up, making use of the projections of the wall with his two feet. Then, with a thousand precautions, he stepped over the sill. Trembling, the girl hastened to draw back the piece of silk and to shut the window.

Then he took the child in his arms, and passion leaped up in their two hearts. In the darkness, and in such emotion, how could that mistake be known? The usurper drew her towards him.

Even so is the precious scented flower of the nutmeg embraced by the bind-weed. Even so is the plum blossom torn by the hail. Even so is the sparrow's nest most outraged by the cuckoo.

When the first clouds of their desire were dissipated by the rain of caresses, Wu-han took from his sleeve the pledges of love. She gave them back to him:

"Now that I am happy, I no more wish to go out."

About the fourth watch, before daylight, Wu-han arose and climbed stealthily down to the street.

Since that time there had to be a storm of rain, or the moon had to be very clear, to prevent Wu-han from hurrying to the small woman. The days, and then the months, passed in this way.

One night the deceiver accidentally made some noise as he went away. P'an immediately came up to them, but saw nothing; for Eternal Life succeeded in not betraying herself. Next night she warned her lover, saying to him in her sense:

"Do not come for a few days. That will be safer. Let us give them time to forget about it."

But her father had his ears on the alert; he heard the window creak, and he ran up, though again too late. In the morning he said to his wife:

"This baby is certainly about some villainy. She keeps her mouth as tight as a trap."

"I also have a suspicion," replied her mother.

"Yet the room opens on to the stairs, which come down into our room."

"I am going to give her a good taste of the rod to make her speak."

"That is a bad plan, a very bad plan," said her mother. "It is a true proverb that you must not show family blemishes. If you beat her, all the neighbors will know, and who would wish to marry her? Let us rather make her sleep in our room, which has no way out except the door. We will spend the night up the stairs, and see what happens."

On being told of this proposal, Eternal Life dared not say anything. And on the higher floor husband and wife slept in peace.

One evening Wu-ban felt his heart seething with passion. Fearing that he might be attacked by P'an, he armed himself with a knife, which he used to cut pigs' throats. Under Eternal Life's window, he coughed softly. Nothing stirred. He coughed more loudly, thinking she was asleep. But everything remained quiet. He was going back to his house, in a thoughtful mood, when he saw a ladder left near to a house which was being built. He seized upon it, carried it away, and put it up against Eternal Life's window. The catch was not locked. He pushed it open, climbed over the sill, and silently went toward the bed.

Drunken with joy, Wu-ban was already disrobing himself of his clothes, when, in the stillness of the night, his ears caught the sound of two people breathing, instead of one. He listened with controlled breath. Unmistakably the rough breathing of a man was mingled with the softer murmur of a woman.

He was suddenly blinded with violent anger:

"This is why she did not answer my signal. The vile child has another man within. It was to get rid of me that she told me of her father's suspicion!"

In his jealous madness he drew his knife and gently felt for the man's throat. With a clean blow he drove the weapon into the flesh, and before the woman could move, he cut her throat also, almost beheading her.

He wiped the knife and his hands on the blanket, opened the window, and descended. He had closed the catches. Once outside, he ran to replace the ladder, and went back to his house. Denounced by his mother and brought before the Court, Wu-ban tried to deny the accusation. But the officers, on uncovering his shoulder, brought a scar to view. Eternal Life recognized his voice and his body. The first tortures overcame his obstinacy, and he confessed all.

The murderer was condemned to slow death.

Eternal Life was strangled, as was old Lu.

Chang, whose lecherous intentions had been the cause of all, was sentenced to a heavy fine. In dismay, and half ruined, he no more left his study chamber. Not long afterwards, he was carried off by a lassitude and a languor.

_Lu Wu-han yin liu ho chin hsieh (Lu Wi-han keeps an Embroidered Slipper to his scathe) Hsing Shih heng yen (1627), 16th Tale._

THE COUNTERFEIT OLD WOMAN

During the Ch'eng-Hua period of our dynasty, there lived at Shantung a young man named Flowering Mulberry, whose parents possessed a sufficient fortune. He had just bound up his hair beneath his man's bonnet; his fresh and rosy complexion added to the delicate charm of his features.

One day, as he was going to visit an uncle in a neighboring village, he was overtaken on the way by a heavy storm of rain, and ran for shelter into a disused temple; and there, seated on the ground waiting for the rain to stop, was an old woman. Flowering Mulberry sat down and, since the storm grew more violent, resigned himself to wait.

Finding him beautiful, the old woman began to converse and ingratiate herself with him, until at length she came across to him, and finally her hands wandered gently over his body.

He found this an agreeable manner of passing the time, but said after a little while: "How is it that, although you are a woman, you have the voice of a man?"

"My son, I will tell you the truth, but you must not reveal it to anybody. I am not really a woman, but a man. When I was little, I used often to disguise myself and mimic the shrill tones of young girls; and I even learned to sew just as well as they. I used often to go to the neighboring market towns, pretending that I was a young girl and offering to do needlework; and my skill was soon much admired by all the dwellers in the houses where I worked.

"I used to mingle with the women, and by degrees, according to the licentiousness of their thought, we would enjoy our pleasure. Soon the women found that they had no more occasion to go out for their dalliance; and even the sober-minded girls among them became involved. They did not dare to say anything, for fear of the scandal; and also I had a drug which I applied during the night to their faces, stupefying them so that they allowed me to do as I liked. When they recovered their senses it was too late, and they dared not protest. On the contrary, they used to bribe me with gold and silken stuffs to keep silence and to leave their house. Ever since then--and I am now forty-seven years of age--I have never again put on a man's garments. I have traveled throughout the two capitals and the nine provinces, and always when I see a beautiful woman I contrive to go to her house. In this way I accumulate riches with but little labor; and I have never been found out."

"What an astonishing tale!" cried the fascinated Flowering Mulberry. "I wonder whether I could do the like."

"One as beautiful as you are," answered the other, "will be taken for a woman by everyone. If you wish me to be your instructor you have only to come with me. I will bind up your feet, and teach you to sew; and we will go into every house together. You shall be my niece. If we find a good opportunity I shall give you a little of my drug, and you will then have no difficulty in achieving your purpose."

The young man's heart was devoured by a desire to put this adventure to the proof. Without further hesitation he prostrated himself four times, and adopted the old woman as his master, taking not a moment's thought for his parents or for his honor. Such an intoxicating thing is vice.

When it had stopped raining, he set out with the old woman; and as soon as they were beyond the boundaries of Shantung they purchased hair-pins and feminine dresses. The disguise was perfect, and anyone would have sworn that Flowering Mulberry was an authentic woman. He changed his first name for that of Niang "the little girl," though for a few days he was so embarrassed that he did not dare to speak.

But his master seemed no longer wishful to look for fresh victims. Every evening he insisted upon his niece sharing his bed; and up to a very late hour would proceed with his instruction and that even to the furthest detail.

It was not for this that Flowering Mulberry had disguised himself. One day he declared that thenceforward each should go his own way, and the other was bound to agree; but before leaving him, he gave the boy some further advice:

"Two highly important rules are to be observed in our profession. The first is not to stop too long in the same house. If you stayed in the one place more than half a month, you would certainly be discovered. Therefore often change your district, so that from month to month there may be no time for the traces of your passage to become noticeable. The second rule is not to let a man come near you. You are beautiful, young and alone in life, and they will all wish to interfere with you. Therefore always surround yourself with women. One last word: have nothing to do with little girls; for they cry out and weep."

So then the two parted.

In the first village he came to, Flowering Mulberry perceived through a door the silhouette of a most graceful young woman, and struck upon the door by its copper knocker. The girl opened, and looked at him through eyes filled with fire. A needle-woman was just what they required.

But in the evening the boy was disappointed by the arrival of a husband, whose lusty appearance left him small hope for the night.

He was forced to wait until the young woman was left alone in the house by day, and came to work in the chamber where he sat. Then he ventured an observation upon the appearance of the countryside, and afterwards congratulated her on her husband. She blushed, and their conversation became more intimate. It was not until the next day, however, that he dared to make an advance. This met with immediate success. Two days afterwards he was forced into a hurried departure; for the husband had taken notice of him, and profited by his wife's momentary absence to suggest caresses.

Thenceforward he followed his trade. At the age of thirty-two he had travelled over more than half the empire, and had beguiled several thousand women. Often, he was so bold as to attack more than eight persons at a time, in a single house, and not even the little slaves escaped his attention. The happiness of which he was thus the cause remained unsuspected, and no one suffered by it, since none could dream of its existence. He always remembered his master's rule, and never risked staying for more than a few days in the same place.

At last he came to the province West-of-the-River, and was received into an important house, where there were more than fifteen women, all beautiful and young. His feeling toward each of these was of so lively a nature that twenty days had passed before he could make up his mind to go away. Now the husband of one of these girls perceived him and, at once falling in love with him, arranged that his wife should cause him to come to their house. Flowering Mulberry went, suspecting nothing, and hardly had he entered before the man came into the room, took him by the waist and embraced him. Naturally he protested and began to cry out; but the husband took not the slightest notice of that. He pushed him on to the next room and searched him with shameless hands. It was his turn to cry out: the slaves ran in, bound Flowering Mulberry, and led him to the court of justice. In front of the judge he tried to plead that he had adopted his disguise in order to gain his living. But torture drew from him his real name and the true motive of his behavior, together with an account of his latest exploits.

The Governor sent a report to the higher authorities, for he had no precedent and knew not to what punishment to condemn him. The Viceroy decided that the case must come under the law of adultery, and also under that which dealt with the propagation of immorality. The penalty was a slow death. No extenuating circumstances were admitted. So ended this story.

_Hsing shih heng yen (1627), 10th Tale._

THE MONASTERY OF THE ESTEEMED-LOTUS

In the town of Eternal Purity there was once a large monastery dedicated to the Esteemed-Lotus. It contained hundreds of rooms, and its grounds covered several thousand acres. Its wealth and prosperity were due to the possession of a famous relic.

The bonzes, who numbered about a hundred, lived in luxury; and visitors were sure to be received by one of them from the moment of entry, and to be invited to take tea and cakes. Now in the temple there was a "Babies' Chapel," which was reputed to possess miraculous virtue. By passing the night in it and burning incense, women who wished to have a son obtained a son: those who wished for a daughter obtained a daughter.

Round the main hall were set several cells. Women who wished for children had to be of vigorous age and free from malady. They used to fast for seven days, and then go into the temple to prostrate themselves before Fo, and to consult the wands of divination.

If the omens were favorable, they passed a night locked up alone in one of the cells, for the purpose of prayer. If the omens were unfavorable, it was because their prayers had not been sufficiently sincere. The bonzes made this fault known to them; and they began their seven days' fast anew, before returning to make their devotions.

The cells had no sort of opening in their walls, and when a penitent entered one of them, her family and attendants used to come and install her. As soon as night came, she was locked in the cell, and the bonzes insisted that a member of her family must pass the night before her door, so that none might entertain the least suspicion of an entry to her. When the woman returned to her home, the child was already formed. It was born fat and beautiful always, and without any blemish.

There was, moreover, no household, either of public officials or the common people, which did not send one or even two of its members to pray in the Babies' Chapel. And women came to it even from the provinces.

Every day the crowd in the monastery was comparable with mountains or the sea, and the place was filled with the gayest hubbub. They no longer kept any reckoning of the offerings of every kind which flowed in upon them. When the women were asked how, during the night, the P'u-sa had made his answer intelligible, some answered simply that Fo had told them in a dream that they would have a son. Others said that they had dreamed that a lo-han had come and lain beside them. Others asserted that they had had no dream. Others again blushed and declined to answer. Some women never repeated this kind of prayer a second time: others, on the contrary, went to the temple as often as possible.

You will tell me that this story of a Fo or of a P'u-sa coming every night to the monastery is in no way short of preposterous. But it must be borne in mind that the people of that district had a greater faith in sorcerers than in doctors, and could not distinguish the true from the false. Consequently they continued to send their wives to the temple.

As a matter of course these bonzes, whose outward behavior was so laudable and correct, were wholly and unreservedly gluttons within, both for luxury and debauch.

Although the cells were apparently quite close, each really had a secret door. When the women were sound asleep, the bonzes came softly into the cell, and to such purpose that, when their victims were aroused, it was already almost too late. Those who would have wished to protest kept silence for the sake of their reputations.

Now the women were young and sound: the bonzes were strong and vigorous. They had, moreover, taken the precaution to cause certain special pills to be administered to their visitors. Consequently it but rarely happened that these prayers were not heard. Sober-minded wives would have died with shame sooner than confess the matter to their husbands; and, as for the others, they kept quiet so that they might be able to do it again.

Matters were in this case when a new Governor was appointed to the district, the Lord Wang. Soon after he entered upon his office, he heard tell of the Monastery of the Esteemed-Lotus, and could not help thinking:

"Since it is Fo and P'u-sa who are involved, it should be enough simply to pray. Why, then, must the women also go and pass the night in the temple? There must be some questionable artifice in that."

But he could do nothing without proof; so he waited until the ninth Sun of the ninth Moon, which was a great festival, and then mixed with the crowd of the faithful who went to the holy place.

Passing through the main gate, he found himself beneath great acacias and hundred-year-old pines. Before him stood the temple, brightly painted with vermilion and decorated by a tablet on which was inscribed in gold letters: "Monastery of the Esteemed-Lotus, for Retirement." To right and left was a succession of pavilions, and innumerable visitors were going out and coming in.

The first bonze who saw the Governor wished to run and warn his companions. The Lord Wang attempted to stop him, but he broke loose, and soon the drums and bells were sounding to do honor to the magistrate, while the bonzes formed in two ranks and bowed as he passed along.

He entered the temple and burned some joss-sticks; after which the Superior made him a low obeisance and begged him to come and rest himself for a moment in the reception hall. Tea was served. Then, concealing his true design, the Governor said:

"I have learned of the great reputation of this Holy Retreat, and I intend to ask the Emperor to grant you a tablet of honor inscribed with the names and particulars of all the bonzes of the district."

Naturally the delighted Superior wished to prostrate himself in thanks; but the Governor continued:

"They have spoken to me also of a miraculous chapel. Is the matter so in truth? And in what manner are these prayers made?"

The Superior answered without misgiving that the period of fasting was seven days; but that by reason of the greatness of their desire and the sincerity of their prayers it most frequently happened that the petitions of the suppliants were granted in a dream during the night which they passed at the monastery.

The Governor asked carelessly what measures were taken to ensure the preservation of the proprieties; and the other explained that the cells had no other entrance than the door, before which a member of the family had to pass the night.

"Since that is the case," said the visitor, "I shall send my wife here."

"If you wish for a son, it is only necessary for both of you to pray sincerely in your palace, and the miracle will be accomplished," the Superior assured him hastily; for he was greatly afraid to see the local authorities concerning themselves in this affair.

"But why must the wives of the people come here, if my wife need not disturb herself to do so?"

"Are you not the protector of our doctrine, and is it not natural that the spirits should pay special attention to your prayers?" answered the astute bonze.

"So be it," agreed Wang. "But allow me to visit this miraculous chapel."

The hall was filled with women, who fled to right and left. The statue of Kwan-yin was covered with necklaces and pieces of embroidery. She was represented holding a child in her arms, while four or five babies clung to her robe. The altar and the walls were covered with votive offerings, chiefly consisting of embroidered slippers. Candles beyond number were held in branches of candlesticks. The hall was filled with the smoke of incense. To the left was the immortal Chang who gives us children. To the right was the "Officer of the Star of Extended Longevity."

Wang bowed before the goddess. Then he went to visit the penitents' cells. Each ceiling was painted over with flowers, a carpet covered each floor and the bed, the table and the chairs were spotlessly clean.

He examined the cells carefully all over and found no crack. Not a mouse, not even an ant could have entered in. He went out in perplexity and, after the usual formalities, again stepped into his palankeen, which was accompanied to the gate by all the bonzes.

Thinking to the right and musing to the left, as the proverb says, the Governor suddenly conceived a plan. As soon as he arrived at the palace, he summoned one of his secretaries, and said to him:

"Go and find me two harlots, and clothe them as honest women. Give one of them a box of black ink and the other a box of vermilion paste, and send them to pass the night at the monastery. If any one approaches them, let them mark his head with the red and the black. I shall go myself to-morrow morning to examine the matter. Above all, let this thing be kept the closest secret."

The secretary at once went to seek out two public women of his acquaintance. One was named Mei-chieh, and the other Wan-erh. He took them to his house, explained the Governor's orders to them, and clothed them as matrons of good family. He summoned two palankeens, which he caused the sham penitents to enter, and himself conducted the procession to the monastery. He left the women in their cells, and came back to inform the monk on duty.

After his departure, a little novice brought tea to the present visitors, who were more than ten in number. Who would have thought of troubling to examine the two new arrivals?

At the sounding of the first watch, all the cells were locked. The members of the various families took up their positions before the doors. The bonzes shut themselves into their own apartments.

When Mei-chieh found herself alone, she put her little box of vermilion near the pillow, turned up the lamp, undressed herself, and lay upon the bed. But she was unable to sleep for thinking of her mission, and continually kept looking through the bed curtains.

The second watch sounded. On every side the sounds of human life were silenced, and all things were still. Suddenly she heard, under the floor, this noise: Ko-Ko. She sat up, thinking it was a rat, and saw a part of the floor move to one side. A shaven head appeared, and was quickly followed by the whole body. It was a bonze. Mei-chieh was astounded, and thought:

"So these rascally priests have been outraging honest women!"

But she did not stir. The bonze quietly blew out the lamp, came towards the bed, let fall his robe, and slipped under the blankets.

Mei-chieh pretended to be asleep. She felt him gently move her leg to one side, and then she made as though to wake saying:

"Who are you who come in the night and insult me?" She pushed him away, but the bonze embraced her in his arms, and whispered: "I am a lo-han with a body of gold, and I have come to give you a son."

While speaking, he busied himself in accordance with his salacity. It must be said that all bonzes have no mean talent in the matter of cloud and rain; and this one was full of vigorous manhood. Mei-chieh was a woman of great experience, but she was unable to resist him and had difficulty, at length, in repressing herself. However, she took advantage of his arriving at the supreme point of his emotion to dip her fingers in the box of vermilion and to mark his head without his perceiving it. After a certain time, the bonze glided from the bed, leaving the girl a little packet, and saying:

"Here are some pills to assist your prayer. Take three-tenths of an ounce each day in hot water, and you will have a son."

Weary in body, Mei-chieh was just dimly closing her eyes, when she was aroused by a fresh touch, and, thinking that the same bonze had returned, said in surprise:

"What? Are you able to come back again, when even I am so tired?"

But he answered without a pause:

"You are making a mistake! I have but just come, and the saviour of my comforts is as yet unknown to you."

"But, I am tired...."

"In that case, take one of these pills...."

And he handed her a packet. But she was afraid that it might be poison and placed it on the bed, contriving in the same movement to dip her fingers in the vermilion and to stroke the newcomer's head. He was even more terrible than the former, and did not cease before cock-crow.

As the old song says:

In an old stone mortar
Where so many pestles have been worn away,
There is need of a heavy copper hammer,
Or the work is lost.

At dawn, another bonze appeared and said to them in a low voice:

"Perhaps you have had your fill. Is not my turn coming?"

The first bonze gave a chuckle, but rose and went out. The other then got upon the bed, and very gently caressed Mei-chieh.

She pretended to repulse him, but he kissed her upon the lips, and said in her ear:

"If he has fatigued you, I have here some pills which will restore the Springtime of your thoughts."

And he thrust a pill into her mouth, which she could not avoid swallowing. A perfume rose from her mouth into her nostrils, and caused her bones to melt, imbuing her body with delicious warmth.

But, even while thinking of herself, Mei-chieh did not forget the Governor's orders. She marked the head of this new assailant also, saying:

"What a nice sleek old pate!"

The bonze burst out laughing:

"I am full of tender and reliable emotions. I am not like the unmannerly people of our town. Come and see me often."

And he retired.

Meanwhile the Governor had left his yamen by the fifth watch, before the day had yet broken, accompanied by an escort of about a hundred resolute men, carrying chains and manacles.

Arriving at the still closed gate of the monastery, he made the greater part of his train hide to the right and left, keeping only some ten men about him. The secretary knocked at the gate, crying that the Governor was there and wished to enter.

The first bonzes who heard his shout made haste to arrange their garments and receive the visitor. But the Lord Wang, paying no attention to their salutations, went straight to the apartment of the Superior, who was already up and prepared to begin the ritual of his greeting. But the Governor dryly ordered him to summon all the bonzes, and to show him the Convent register.

Somewhat alarmed, the Superior ordered bells and drums to be sounded, and the bonzes, snatched from their sleep, ran up in groups. When the names written on the register had been called, the Governor commanded the astonished monks to remove their skullcaps.

In the full light of the morning sun three heads were seen to be marked with vermilion, but, Oh, prodigy, no less than eleven heads were covered with black ink!

"It no longer surprises me that these prayers should be so successful," murmured the secretary. "Indeed these bonzes are very conscientious!"

Lord Wang pointed out the guilty ones, and caused them to be put in chains, asking: "Whence come these marks of red and black upon you?"

But the kneeling monks looked at each other and could not answer, while the whole assembly remained stricken with wonder at this strange event.

Meanwhile the secretary had gone into the Babies' Chapel and, by dint of shouting, had roused the two harlots from a heavy sleep.

They quickly put on their garments, and came to kneel before the Governor, who asked them:

"What did you see during the night? Tell me the whole truth."

Since they had agreed to the mission, the two women rendered a plain account of the events of that night, showing the pills which the bonzes had given them, and also their boxes of vermilion and black.

The bonzes, seeing that their schemes were brought to light, felt their livers turn and their hearts put out of working. They groaned in their secret despair, while the fourteen culprits beat the earth with their brows and begged for mercy.

"Miserable wretches, you dare to preach divine intervention, so that you may deceive the foolish and outrage the virtuous! What have you to say?"

But the cunning Superior already had his plan. He ordered all the bonzes to kneel, and said:

"These unhappy ones whom you have convicted are without excuse. But they were the only ones who dared to act so. All my other monks are pure. You have been able to discover the shame of the guilty, which I in my ignorance could not, and there is nothing for it but to put them to death."

The Governor smiled:

"Then it is only the cells which these two women occupied that have secret passages?"

"There are only those two cells," answered the unblushing Superior.

"We shall question all the other women, and then see."

The female visitors, who had already been wakened by the noise, came in turns to give their evidence. They were all in agreement: no bonze had come to trouble them. But the Governor knew that shame would prevent them from speaking, and therefore had them searched. In the pocket of each was found a little packet of pills. He asked them whence these came; but the women, purple in the face and scarlet in the neck, answered no word.

While this examination was taking place, the husbands of the penitents came up and took a part in it. And their anger made them tremble like the hemp-plant or leaves of a tree. When the Governor, who did not wish to push his questioning too far, had allowed the visitors to depart, their husbands swallowed their shame and indignation, and led them away.

The Superior had not yet given up the fight. He asserted that the pills had been given to the women as they entered the monastery. But the two harlots again affirmed that they at least had received them during the visit of the bonzes.

"The matter is quite clear," the Governor cried at length. "Put all of these adulterers in chains!"

The bonzes had some thought of resisting; but they had no weapons and were outnumbered. The only ones left free were an old man who kindled the incense, and the two little novices still in childhood.

The gate of the monastery was closed and guarded. On his return to the yamen, the Governor took his seat in the Hall of Justice, and had his prisoners questioned in the usual ways. Fear of pain loosened their tongues, and they were condemned to death. They were cast into prison to await the ratification of their sentence.

As the Governor of the prison went his rounds to inspect their bonds, the Superior whispered to him:

"We have brought nothing, neither clothes, nor blankets, nor food. If you will allow me to return for a moment to the monastery with three or four of my monks, I will willingly give you a hundred ounces of silver."

The prison governor knew the wealth of the monastery. He smiled:

"My price is a hundred ounces for myself, and two hundred for my men."

The Superior made a grimace, but was compelled to promise this larger sum. The warders consulted with each other, and finally, when night came, led the Superior and three of his bonzes back to the monastery. From a secret place among their cells the monks took the promised three hundred ounces, and gave them at once to the warders. While these were weighing them and sharing them among themselves, they collected the rest of their treasure, and secretly laid hold of weapons, short swords and hatchets, which they rolled up in their blankets. Also they brought away wine. Thus heavily laden, warders and bonzes alike returned to the prison, and held a feast. The priests succeeded in making their warders drunk. In the middle of the night they drew forth their weapons and, having first set each other free, proceeded to force the gates. They might perhaps have escaped altogether; but in their rancour against the Governor they went first to attack the yamen. The troops of police were numerous and well armed, and the bonzes were quickly overcome. The Superior gave his men orders to return as quickly as possible to the prison, to lay down their arms and to say that only a few of them had revolted, since this might save the others. But the warders attacked them so hotly that they were all put back in chains.

Their crime was grave, and doubly aggravated by rebellion. Next day, when the sun had well risen, the Governor gave his judgment. All the hundred and twelve monks were led straight to the market-place and beheaded. Groups of men provided with torches went to set fire to the monastery, and it was soon a smoking ruin. Joy flowered upon the faces of all the men of that town. But it is said that many of the women wept in secret.

_Adapted from Hsing shih heng yen (1627), 39th Tale._

A COMPLICATED MARRIAGE

Marriages have from all time been arranged beforehand by Heaven. If such is the will of destiny, the most distantly separated persons come together, and the nearest neighbors never see each other. All is settled before birth, and every effort of mortals does but accomplish the decree of Fate. This is proved by the following story.