on-in-law who would
appreciate the collection, which has been my life work. I told him the
story of my experiences in Ping Yang, in which he seemed deeply
interested. He informed me that, although he had been in the city, he
had never heard of the emerald Buddha. He intended going on to Pekin
later in the autumn, and proposed to me that he should attempt to secure
the jewel for me. I told him that I regarded its purchase as impossible,
but he only laughed and said that he felt sure he could secure it. I
made light of his claims, and, when he said in all seriousness one night
that he would obtain it for me provided I would consent to his marriage
to my daughter, I agreed at once, both because I felt his quest was an
absolutely hopeless one and because I saw no objections to him as a
son-in-law in any event. I did not mention my agreement to my daughter
at the time, not wishing it to appear to her that I was bartering her in
return for a mere jewel. In fact I felt so certain that she would
welcome Mr. Ashton's advances that I preferred that she should remain
in ignorance of my compact with him. A few days later he departed for
Pekin, and we returned home by way of India and Suez. On account of both
my daughter's health and my own, we decided to take a house on the
southwest coast for a time, my house in London being under lease for a
term of years, expiring this coming spring. Upon my return I questioned
my daughter with relation to Mr. Ashton, and was amazed and horrified to
learn that, far from regarding him with sentiments of esteem, she bore
toward him a feeling almost of aversion. I explained to her the promise
that I had made which it was now too late for me to recall, and at my
earnest request and almost at my command she wrote to Mr. Ashton,
agreeing to abide by my wishes in the matter. That was six or eight
months ago, and I heard nothing from him until two days ago when he
telegraphed me from Southampton that he had arrived in England and
would come to see me at once.

"His story, as he related it to me at dinner last night, was like an
adventure from the Arabian Nights. After completing his business in
Pekin, he had set out upon his long journey to Ping Yang with only a
single native servant, a Chinaman from the south, a Confucian, who was
devoted to him, and owed him a debt of gratitude for saving his life on
one occasion. Accompanied only by this man, he penetrated slowly to
within about fifteen miles of the