“To what further end does the malignity of the ill-made Ming-shu now shape itself? Should it entail a second peril to your head—”
“The one whom you so justly name fades for a moment out of our concern. Burdened with a secret mission he journeys to Hing-poo, nor does the Mandarin Shan Tien hold another court until the day of his return.”
“That gives a breathing space of time to our ambitions?”
“So much is assured. Yet even in that a subtle danger lurks. Certain contingencies have become involved in the recital of your admittedly ingenious stories which the future unfolding of events may not always justify. For instance, the very speculative Shan Tien, casting his usual moderate limit to the skies, has accepted the Luminous Insect as a beckoning omen, and immersed himself deeply in the chances of every candidate bearing the name of Lao, Ting, Li, Tzu, Sung, Chu, Wang or Chin. Should all these fail incapably at the trials a very undignified period in the Mandarin’s general manner of expressing himself may intervene.”
“Had the time at the disposal of this person been sufficiently enlarged he would not have omitted the various maxims arising from the tale,” admitted Kai Lung, with a shadow of remorse. “That suited to the need of a credulous and ill-balanced mind would doubtless be the proverb: ‘He who believes in gambling will live to sell his sandals.’ It is regrettable if the well-intending Mandarin took the wrong one. Fortunately another moon will fade before the results are known—”
“In the meantime,” continued the maiden, indicating by a glance that what she had to relate was more essential to the requirements of the moment than anything he was saying: “Shan Tien is by no means indisposed towards your cause. Your unassuming attitude and deep research have enlarged your wisdom in his eyes. To-morrow he will send for you to lean upon your well-stored mind.”
“Is the emergency one for which any special preparation is required?” questioned Kai Lung.
“That is the message of my warning. Of late a company of grateful friends has given the Mandarin an inlaid coffin to mark the sense of their indebtedness, the critical nature of the times rendering the gift peculiarly appropriate. Thus provided, Shan Tien has cast his eyes around to secure a burial robe worthy of the casket. The merchants proffer many, each endowed with all the qualities, but meanwhile doubts arise, and now Shan Tien would turn to you to learn what is the true and ancient essential of the garment, and wherein its virtue should reside.”
“The call will not find me inept,” replied Kai Lung. “The story of Wang Ho—”
“It is enough,” exclaimed the maiden warningly. “The time for wandering together in the garden of the imagination has not yet arrived. Ming-shu’s feet are on a journey, it is true, but his eyes are doubtless left behind. Until a like hour to-morrow gladdens our expectant gaze, farewell!”