‘The greedy flames devour the tuneful Tung.’”
A learned disquisition by Tu on the celebrated musician who recognised the sonorous qualities of a piece of Tung timber burning in the kitchen fire effectually diverted the conversation from the inconvenient direction it had taken, and shortly afterward Jasmine took her leave.
Haunted by the thought of what had passed, she wandered on to the veranda of her archery pavilion, and while gazing half unconsciously heavenward her eyes were attracted by a hawk which flew past and alighted on a tree beyond the boundary-wall, and in front of the study she had lately left. In a restless and thoughtless mood, she took up her bow and arrow, and with unerring aim compassed the death of her victim. No sooner, however, had the hawk fallen, carrying the arrow with it, than she remembered that her name was inscribed on the shaft, and fearing lest it should be found by either Wei or Tu, she hurried round in the hope of recovering it. But she was too late. On approaching the study, she found Tu in the garden in front, examining the bird and arrow.
“Look,” he said, as he saw her coming, “what a good shot some one has made! and whoever it is, he has a due appreciation of his own skill. Listen to these lines which are scraped on the arrow:
‘Do not lightly draw your bow;
But if you must, bring down your foe.’”
Jasmine was glad enough to find that he had not discovered her name, and eagerly exchanged banter with him on the conceit of the owner of the arrow. But before she could recover it, Wei, who had heard the talking and laughter, joined them, and took the arrow out of Tu’s hand to examine it. Just at that moment a messenger came to summon Tu to his father’s presence, and he had no sooner gone than Wei exclaimed:
“But see, here is the name of the mysterious owner of the arrow, and, as I live, it is a girl’s name—Jasmine! Who, among the goddesses of heaven can Jasmine be?”
“Oh, I will take the arrow then,” said Jasmine. “It must belong to my sister. That is her name.”
“I did not know that you had a sister,” said Wei.
“Oh yes, I have,” answered Jasmine, quite forgetful of the celebrated dictum of Confucius: “Be truthful.” “She is just one year younger than I am,” she added, thinking it well to be circumstantial.