also fails."

"What other seemly course presents itself?" demanded the maiden
unsympathetically. "How degrading a position might easily become that
of the one who linked her lot with yours if all fit and proper
sequences are to be reversed! What menial one might supplant her not
only in your affections but also in your Rites! He had defied the
Principles!" she exclaimed, as her father entered from behind a
screen.

"He has lost his inheritance," muttered the little old man, eyeing him
contemptuously. "Weng Cho," he continued aloud, "you have played a
double part and crossed our step with only half your heart. Now the
past is past and the future an unwritten sheet."

"It shall be written in vermilion ink," replied Weng, regaining an
impassive dignity; "and upon that darker half of my heart can now be
traced two added names."

He had no aim now, but instinct drove him towards the mountains, the
retreat of the lost and despairing. A three days' journey lay between.
He went forward vacantly, without food and without rest. A falling
leaf, as it is said, would have turned the balance of his destiny, and
at the wayside village of Li-yong so it chanced. The noisome smell of
burning thatch stung his face as he approached, and presently the
object came into view. It was the bare cabin of a needy widow who had
become involved in a lawsuit through the rapacity of a tax-gatherer.
As she had the means neither to satisfy the tax nor to discharge the
dues, the powerful Mandarin before whom she had been called ordered
all her possessions to be seized, and that she should then be burned
within her hut as a warning to others. This was the act of justice
being carried out, and even as Weng heard the tale the Mandarin in
question drew near, carried in his state chair to satisfy his eyes
that his authority was scrupulously maintained. All those villagers
who had not drawn off unseen at once fell upon their faces, so that
Weng alone remained standing, doubtful what course to take.

"Ill-nurtured dog!" exclaimed the Mandarin, stepping up to him,
"prostrate yourself! Do you not know that I am of the Sapphire Button,
and have fivescore bowmen at my yamen, ready to do my word?" And he
struck the youth across the face with a jewelled rod.

"I have only one sword, but it is in my hand," cried Weng, reckless
beneath the blow, and drawing it he at one stroke cut down the
Mandarin before any could raise a hand. Then breaking in the door of
the