honey, freely to thy hand. Yet how comes it that you know of the destiny awaiting this untimely one?"
"Why, it is the great talk among the inner chambers of this quarter of the city, and there is much concern as to the means by which the supple paint-peddler within will strive to avert the doom."
"What do men say?" asked Ming, veiling his misgivings.
"They say little; but their lesser ones industriously supply that lack."
"And to what end?" demanded Ming more urgently.
"The general trend is that the Fates will in due course prevail," replied the one outside, speaking with an air of agreeable anticipation despite the honey cake he fed on, "for it is recalled that when the wily mastic-monger had you adopted to the Temple banyan tree, to secure for you a powerful advocate, the hostile Ones were strong enough by a lightning flash to cleave it to the ground and leave you shieldless. Glad am I, Kwok San, that for me the geomancers foretold the threefold happiness. . . . To whom will go your bow and golden arrows, O estimable San?"
"To thee, without doubt, out of deep mutual friendship," Ming made reply in haste. "Touching this fate—when is the day"
"I cannot stay—one stronger than myself draws nigh and the fair remnant of this cake"
"But the bow and golden arrows"
"Another day perchance" came back the lessening voice, and pursuing feet sped by.
Ming Tseuen replaced the shutter and sat down. A variety of noteworthy sayings from the lips of Sages of the past occurred to his retentive mind, but although many of these were of gem-like lustre, none seemed at the moment to offer him the exact solution that his posi-
