“We are all in God’s hands,” said the Prime Minister with a shrug of resignation, “and death sometimes comes suddenly.”
“It does indeed in Seoul,” I commented, whereupon the Prime Minister groaned aloud, thinking probably of his own impending fate and that of his wife, children, and kinsfolk.
“Excellency,” he went on with the courage of desperation, “it is all your fault. If you had not brought that creature to Seoul, I would have been a happy man to-day. I have always been your friend, and it is said your country stands by its friends; but that, I fear, is not true. You can help me now, but perhaps you will not do it.”
“I admit it is largely my fault, although, like yourself, I was merely the Prime Minister on our side of the affair. Nevertheless, if there is anything I can do to help you, Hun Woe, I shall be very glad to do it.”
He brightened up perceptibly at this, and said eagerly, as if to give further spur to my inclination:
“If you do, I will make you a rich man, Excellency.”
Nothing showed the desperate nature of his case more conclusively than this offer of money, which is always a Corean’s very last card.
“I do not want a single sek from you, Hun Woe; in fact I am willing to give away many thousands of them if it will aid you. Tell me what I can do for you. I will even go so far as to return with you to Seoul and beg or bribe the Emperor’s clemency.”
“That would indeed be useless,” demurred the Prime Minister; “His Majesty would promise you anything and take what money you liked to give him; but my body would be dismembered as soon as you were gone, and all my kinsfolk killed or sent to slavery.”