Portrait of an Emperor
tle as the little rain of China softly falling. Though it was of vast portent, it crept about soundlessly on little cat's feet, too deftly told for even an echo to drift to the ears of Duke Bonimet.
Finally the hour came that had been set for the departure of the caravan of Chang Shou-kuei. There was much noise and chatter. The crowds of people swelled to mob proportions. Duke Bonimet was impatient, so he did not notice the guilty expressions on the faces of his people, faces that usually were mask-like and inscrutable. His thoughts were concerned with other things. When he had paid his farewell respects to Chang Shou-kuei, he hastily withdrew and went at once to his palace. He caused the doors of the great hall which had been converted into a treasure-chamber to be secured because he did not wish to be disturbed. It was needless precaution. Never would he be disturbed again, for every last one of his people, even the aged, the crippled and the young with all their horses, their dogs, their falcons, their pigs, had followed the caravan of Chang, the Conqueror. In all the city not a single living creature remained except Duke Bonimet, General of All Men.
9.
Hours later, several trusted followers of Governor Chang returned to the quiet fortresses of the Duke. They seized him, paying no heed to his violent protestations, carried him into a desert region and buried him
until naught but his head showed. Then wild horses
