uns had
ever seen.

The sisters knew that this magic well was a monument to Kwan-yin's
goodness. For a few days they treated her much better. "Since the gods
have dug a well at our very gate," they said, "this girl will no longer
need to bear water from the foot of the hill. For what strange reason,
however, did the gods write this beggar's name on the stone?"

Kwan-yin heard their unkind remarks in silence. She could have explained
the meaning of the dragon's gift, but she chose to let her companions
remain in ignorance. At last the selfish nuns began to grow careless
again, and treated her even worse than before. They could not bear to
see the poor girl enjoy a moment's idleness.

"This is a place for work," they told her. "All of us have laboured hard
to win our present station. You must do likewise." So they robbed her of
every chance for study and prayer, and gave her no credit for the magic
well.

One night the sisters were awakened from their sleep by strange noises,
and soon they heard outside the walls of the compound the blare of a
trumpet. A great army had been sent by Kwan-yin's father to attack the
convent, for his spies had at last been able to trace the runaway
princess to this holy retreat.

"Oh, who has brought this woe upon us?" exclaimed all the women, looking
at each other in great fear. "Who has done this great evil? There is one
among us who has sinned most terribly, and now the gods are about to
destroy us." They gazed at one another, but no one thought of Kwan-yin,
for they did not believe her of enough importance to attract the anger
of heaven, even though she might have done the most shocking of deeds.
Then, too, she had been so meek and lowly while in their holy order that
they did not once dream of charging her with any crime.

The threatening sounds outside grew louder and louder. All at once a
fearful cry arose among the women: "They are about to burn our sacred
dwelling." Smoke was rising just beyond the enclosure where the soldiers
were kindling a great fire, the heat of which would soon be great enough
to make the convent walls crumble into dust.

Suddenly a voice was heard above the tumult of the weeping sisters:
"Alas! I am the cause of all this trouble."

The nuns, turning in amazement, saw that it was Kwan-yin who was
speaking. "You?" they exclaimed, astounded.

"Yes, I, for I am indeed the daughter of a king. My father did not wish
me to take the vows of this holy order.