ould destroy the house with a single glance, Ten-teh still
hesitated.

"The night is dark and stormy, and robbers and evil spirits are
certainly about in large numbers, striving to enter unperceived by any
open door," he protested, but with becoming deference. "With what does
your welcome and opportune visit concern itself, honourable stranger?"

"The one before you is not accustomed to be questioned in his doings,
or even to be spoken to by ordinary persons," replied the Being.
"Nevertheless, Ten-teh, there is that in your history for the past
fourteen years which saves you from the usual fatal consequences of so
gross an indiscretion. Let it suffice that it is concerned with the
flight of the cormorant."

Upon this assurance Ten-teh no longer sought evasion. He hastened to
throw open the outer door and the stranger entered, whereupon the
tempest ceased, although the thunder and lightning still lingered
among the higher mountains. In passing through the doorway the robe of
plaited grasses caught for a moment on the staple and pulling aside
revealed that the Being wore upon his left foot a golden sandal and
upon his right foot one of iron, while embedded in his throat was a
great pearl. Convinced by this that he was indeed one of the Immortal
Eight, Ten-teh prostrated himself fittingly, and explained that the
apparent disrespect of his reception arose from a conscientious
interest in the safety of the one committed to his care.

"It is well," replied the Being affably; "and your unvarying fidelity
shall not go unrewarded when the proper time arrives. Now bring
forward the one whom hitherto you have wisely called Hoang."

In secret during the past years Ten-teh had prepared for such an
emergency a yellow silk robe bearing embroidered on it the Imperial
Dragon with Five Claws. He had also provided suitable ornaments, fur
coverings for the hands and face, and a sword and shield. Waking
Hoang, he quickly dressed him, sprinkled a costly perfume about his
head and face, and taking him for the last time by the hand he led him
into the presence of the stranger.

"Kwo Kam, chosen representative of the sacred line of Tang," began the
Being, when he and Hoang had exchanged signs and greetings of equality
in an obscure tongue, "the grafted peach-tree on the Crystal Wall is
stricken and the fruit is ripe and rotten to the touch. The flies that
have fed upon its juice are drunk with it and lie helpless on the
ground; the skin