, with many a sigh, turned to descend the path once more. Again they
heard a sound, and that time on looking round quickly Yu Chan saw the
boatmen, whom he had thought awaited the maiden's return by the river
brink, stealing closely after him, their faces shrouded in their black
cloaks.

"At once his suspicions were aroused, and hastily unsheathing his sword
he confronted them just as they flung off their cloaks and the fierce
faces of six of the half-savage soldiery of the monarch were revealed to
Yu Chan. Slowly the latter retreated till he was a little way down the
path with his back to the protecting limestone, then stood at bay to
defend the maiden and himself from the advancing foes. Warily they came
on, for well they knew the deadly thrusts which he could deal with his
keen sword. Yu Chan in fighting at such desperate odds more than once
failed to beat down the weapons lunged at him, but though severely
wounded he did not flinch from the combat. Three of his assailants lay
dead at his feet, when the leader of the monarch's soldiery twisted the
sword from Yu Chan's hand, and then the three surviving foes rushed upon
the defenceless man. With a cry that pierced the air the maiden flung
herself before her lover--to fall dead as her body was thrust through
and through by the weapons intended for the heart of Yu Chan!

[Illustration: "THE MAIDEN FLUNG HERSELF BEFORE HER LOVER."]

"Like a boarhound the mountain chief leapt upon his nearest assailant,
wrenched the sword dripping with the maiden's blood from his hand, and
almost cleaved him in half with one resistless stroke. He turned next
upon the remaining two, but they fled headlong down the path, Yu Chan
following with a fierce cry at their heels. Into the boat they leapt,
nor dared to look behind till they were out in mid-stream; then they saw
the wounded chief slowly dragging himself back to where the maiden lay
lifeless.

"Yu Chan bent despairingly over her as he saw the fatal stains which
dyed her garments and reddened some of the fragrant white flowers fallen
from her hair, which lay in masses framing her white, still face. Taking
up his own sword, he sheathed it; then he raised the maiden gently in
his arms, and, covered himself with gaping wounds, he set out to cross
the great plain to the Three Hundred Peaks, where his followers awaited
his return. On he struggled for two weary days with his lifeless burden;
then at last he reached the end of his journey,