e little flower
garden behind the high street wall? And did that occupation seem
more agreeable to him than watching the wax lights in the temple? Or
did he wish to sit at the rich feast, wiping his mouth with silver
paper between each course? Or was his sin so great that, if he dared
utter it, the Celestial Empire would punish it with death? Had his
thoughts ventured to fly with the ships of the barbarians, to their
homes in far distant England? No, his thoughts did not fly so far, and
yet they were sinful, sinful as thoughts born of young hearts,
sinful here in the temple, in the presence of Fo and the other holy
gods.

"I know whither his thoughts had strayed. At the farther end of
the city, on the flat roof paved with porcelain, on which stood the
handsome vases covered with painted flowers, sat the beauteous Pu,
of the little roguish eyes, of the full lips, and of the tiny feet.
The tight shoe pained her, but her heart pained her still more. She
lifted her graceful round arm, and her satin dress rustled. Before her
stood a glass bowl containing four gold-fish. She stirred the bowl
carefully with a slender lacquered stick, very slowly, for she, too,
was lost in thought. Was she thinking, perchance, how the fishes
were richly clothed in gold, how they lived calmly and peacefully in
their crystal world, how they were regularly fed, and yet how much
happier they might be if they were free? Yes, that she could well
understand, the beautiful Pu. Her thoughts wandered away from her
home, wandered to the temple, but not for the sake of holy things.
Poor Pu! Poor Soui-hong!

"Their earthly thoughts met, but my cold beam lay between the two,
like the sword of the cherub."

TWENTY-SEVENTH EVENING

"The air was calm," said the Moon; "the water was transparent as
the purest ether through which I was gliding, and deep below the
surface I could see the strange plants that stretched up their long
arms towards me like the gigantic trees of the forest. The fishes swam
to and fro above their tops. High in the air a flight of wild swans
were winging their way, one of which sank lower and lower, with
wearied pinions, his eyes following the airy caravan, that melted
farther and farther into the distance. With outspread wings he sank
slowly, as a soap bubble sinks in the still air, till he touched the
water. At length his head lay back between his wings, and silently
he lay there, like a white lotus flower upon the quiet lake. An