Daibang bowed low, but said nothing. After a moment the Khan continued:
“In truth, lad, my love for you grows, and I am minded even to trust your word and let you live. Will you promise, by your mother’s love and by all else in this world that you consider holy, not to breathe to any man or any woman the secret concerning me that you have learned this day? And will you promise also to tell no one in what manner your life was spared?”
Solemnly and in all true faith Daibang knelt down and promised to keep steadfastly these two things, as long as he lived. With that he was dismissed, and servants were ordered to load him with presents and conduct him home.
Great was the wonder of the people in the village when they learned that Daibang had returned unharmed from the palace, [[103]]after having acted as the Khan’s barber. They came in crowds to the widow’s cottage and demanded eagerly how it was that he had escaped, and what the Khan’s great secret was, anyway, that he should refuse at any time to be seen by his people, or to let those live who had once set eyes upon him. But to all their questions and wonderings Daibang said never a word. That night his mother, too, besought him to tell her just how he had fared and about the Khan’s secret, but he only said to her:
“Mother mine, ask me no more. Your cakes worked the loving magic you foretold, and I have escaped death, but I have given my word of honor that I will tell no human being—not even my dear and faithful mother—the secret I learned while I was cutting the Khan’s hair.”
So the days and weeks and months passed by, and still every once in so often a fine young man would be chosen from among the people and taken to the palace to trim the Khan’s hair, after which he [[104]]would be put to death. Not one escaped as Daibang had done. And still the people came to the widow’s cottage and entreated Daibang to tell them the monarch’s secret. Now he was a tender-hearted and a willing youth, and he yearned most earnestly to break his promise, more especially when mothers and fathers besought him with tears and prayers to tell them how he had been spared, so that their sons might live also.
At length, so great was the strain of the secret on his mind and heart, that Daibang grew very ill. Doctors came to him from all parts of the country, and his mother nursed him with tender care, day and night, yet steadily he grew worse and worse.
“The lad will die,” the doctors said to his mother; “he will surely die unless he breathes forth the secret that is resting so heavily upon his mind.”
But Daibang remained faithful. “I have promised,” said he, “by my mother’s [[105]]love and by all else that I call holy, to tell my secret to no living being, and I will die rather than break my word.” So the doctors all departed, saying there was nothing further they could do.
That night the widow devised a plan. Sitting beside her son as he lay, restless and tossing on his bed, she said: