And when Richard More held it against the light they saw, gleaming high, an imperial dragon and beside it the four strange cabalistic marks.
“It is the royal seal,” said Kou Ying quietly—“the seal of a dynasty long since deposed. Only documents of rare value are inscribed on this paper.”
He waited a moment in silence. “It will tell us the way,” he said slowly—“Whoever sees that paper must speak true words—on penalty of death.”
He held out his hand. “Give it to me,” he said quietly.
And Richard More yielded it without demur.
The man’s whole bearing had changed. His face had lost its sullen look. He gazed down at the yellowed paper with quiet intentness.
Presently he looked up. The smile on his face was youthful and full of light. The antagonism was gone, and the repression and difference of race.
“I wish I had known before—that you carried this,” he said gently. He smoothed it in his yellow fingers.
“What would you have done—different?” asked Richard, a little curious.
“I should have served you in spirit,” said Kou Ying. “This is the map of the spirit country.” He touched it reverently and waited a moment.