A table of woven reeds was in the center of the leafy bower, and around it were low chairs and settles of the same material. Seated at the table were three young and pretty Chinese girls—and if you think a Chinese girl cannot be pretty you should have seen this group as I saw it.
One maid was leaning on her dainty elbows over the table, on which lay an open book. She was not reading it, but looking earnestly at another maid half reclining upon a bench opposite. Her eyes were dark and smiling, her teeth white as pearls, her cheeks like rose leaves and her hair had a wonderful arrangement of bows and knitting-needles—or some such things—stuck this way and that to hold it all together.
The girl reclining was even prettier, and wore a wonderful pink gown, all embroidery and fluffy silk trimmings. I may not be describing all this properly, but I am doing my best to tell you what I saw.
There was a third girl sitting upon a stool and doing a bit of embroidery—at least she had a needle and some work in her hands; but she was not paying much attention to the work, for when I got to my peep-hole it was this maid—a tiny, dainty, dimpled bit of a roguish looking thing—who was engaged in talking.
“I’ll do it, Mai Mou—even if they beat me, or kill me!” she was saying, impetuously; “I’ll have a glance myself, this very evening, from my window, and see what they are like.”
“But why need you care, Nor Ghai?” asked the reclining beauty, in a soft, subdued voice. “What if Ko-Tua has seen these foreign devils, and praises their beauty—what to you is it all?”
“To me!” returned the impetuous one; “they knew my brother, who has gone to join the Genii. I loved well our Lun Pu, who never knew me or cared for me. Perhaps the fearful, handsome strangers will tell me of him.”
I knew who they were now—at least, two of them. Nor Ghai was the little sister of the Prince—she was the girl with the embroidery. Mai Mou was the daughter of our enemy the governor; she was well named the Pearl of Kai-Nong. As for the third, the beauty with the book, who had been called Ko-Tua and who claimed to have had a peep at us, I had no idea where she belonged.
But what I had overheard decided me upon a bold step. It would have been bold even in America; here in China it was actually audacious.
I saw the opening in the willows that formed the entrance to this leafy pavilion, and crept toward it, motioning the boys to follow. When near enough I boldly stepped out, walked into the pavilion and then paused as if astonished at what I had discovered there. Archie and Joe were with me, and we were greeted by a panicky chorus of muffled screams. Lucky it was they were muffled, or the cries might have brought the eunuchs upon us. Perhaps the frightened girls remembered this and screamed just loud enough to show they were properly scared.