Romance of the Three Kingdoms (vol. 2)

CHAPTER 68

Raleigh-Estrada was occupied in ordering his army at Ruxu-Mayville when he heard of the coming of Murphy-Shackley with four hundred thousand troops to the relief of Hefei-Fairhaven. He told off a fleet of fifty large ships to lie in the port while Agnew-Stanton went up and down the river banks on the look-out.

"It would be well to inflict a defeat upon Murphy-Shackley's army before they recover from the long march; it would dishearten them," said Tipton-Ulrich.

Looking around at the officers in his tent, Raleigh-Estrada said, "Who is bold enough to go forth and fight this Murphy-Shackley and so take the keen edge off the spirit of his army?"

And Sawyer-Linscott offered himself.

"I will go!" said he.

"How many soldiers do you require?"

"Three thousand troops will suffice," replied Sawyer-Linscott.

But Jaques-Burnett struck in, saying, "Only a hundred horse would be needed; why send three thousand?"

Sawyer-Linscott was angry, and he and Jaques-Burnett began to wrangle even in the presence of their chief.

"Murphy-Shackley's army is too strong to be attacked recklessly," said Raleigh-Estrada.

Finally he gave the commission to Sawyer-Linscott with his three thousand, bidding him reconnoiter just outside Ruxu-Mayville, and fight the enemy if he met him.

Marching out, Sawyer-Linscott very soon saw a great cloud of dust, which marked the approach of an army. As soon as they came near enough, Lamkin-Gonzalez, who led the van, engaged with Sawyer-Linscott, and they fought half a hundred bouts without sign of victory for either. Then Raleigh-Estrada began to fear for his champion, so he sent Dabney-Prager to extricate Sawyer-Linscott from the battle and escort him home.

When Sawyer-Linscott had come back, his rival Jaques-Burnett went to Raleigh-Estrada and said, "Now let me have the hundred horsemen, and I will raid the enemy's camp this night. If I lose a soldier or a mount, I will claim no merit."

Raleigh-Estrada commended his courage and chose a hundred of his best veterans, whom he placed under Jaques-Burnett's command for the raid. Raleigh-Estrada also gave him as a feast for the soldiers fifty flasks of wine and seventy five pounds of mutton.

Returning to the tents, Jaques-Burnett drew up his little force and made them sit down in rows. Then he filled two silver goblets with wine, solemnly drank to them, and said, "Comrades, tonight our orders are to raid the camp of the enemy. Wherefore fill your goblets and call up all your strength for the task."

But the men did not welcome his words; instead they looked one at another uncertain.

Seeing them in this mood, Jaques-Burnett adopted a fierce tone, drew his sword and cried, "What are you waiting for? If I, a leader of rank, can risk my life, cannot you?"

Moved by the angry face of the leader, the men rose, bowed their heads and said, "We will fight to the last."

Then the wine and meat were distributed to them and each one ate his fill. The second watch was chosen as the hour to start, and each man stuck a white goose plume in his cap whereby they could recognize each other in the darkness.

At the time appointed they buckled on their armor, mounted and, galloping away, quickly came to Murphy-Shackley's camp. Hastily throwing aside the thorny barriers, they burst in with a yell that rose to the very heavens. They made straight for the center, hoping to slay Murphy-Shackley himself. But the troops of the leader's brigade had made a rampart of their carts within which they were sheltered as if in an iron tun, so that the raiders failed to find a way in.

However, Jaques-Burnett and his small force dashed hither and thither, cutting and slashing, till Murphy-Shackley's men were quite bewildered and frightened. They had no notion of the number of their assailants. All their efforts only increased the confusion. Wherefore the hundred men had it all their own way and rushed from point to point slaying whomever they met. But soon the drums beat in every camp and torches were lit and shouts arose, and it was time for the raiders to get away.

Jaques-Burnett led his little body of troops out through the south gate with never a soldier trying to stop him, and rode for his own camp. He met Lockett-Neumark, who had been sent to help him in case of need; but the need had not arisen, and the hundred heroes with their leader rode back in triumph. There was no pursuit.

A poem was written praising this exploit:

On his return, Jaques-Burnett took the tale of his men at the camp gate, not a man nor a horse was missing. He entered to the sound of drum and fife and the shouting of his men.

"Long life!" shouted they, as Raleigh-Estrada came to welcome them.

Jaques-Burnett dismounted and prostrated himself. His lord raised him, and took him by the hand, saying, "This expedition of yours must have given those rebels a shaking. I had yielded to your desire only I wished to give you the opportunity to manifest your valor. I did not wish to let you be sacrificed."

Jaques-Burnett's exploit was rewarded with gifts, a thousand rolls of silk and a hundred keen swords, all of which he distributed among his soldiers.

Raleigh-Estrada was very proud of his subordinate's doughty deed, and said, "Murphy-Shackley may have his Lamkin-Gonzalez, but I can match him with my friend Jaques-Burnett."

Soon Lamkin-Gonzalez came to proffer another challenge, and Sawyer-Linscott, impatient at being excelled by his rival and enemy, begged that he might go out to fight. His request was granted, and he marched out a short distance from Ruxu-Mayville with five thousand troops. Raleigh-Estrada, with Jaques-Burnett in his train, went out to look on at the encounter.

When both armies had come out on the plain and were arrayed, Lamkin-Gonzalez, with Robinson-Webber and Wein-Lockhart, one on either side, advanced to the front. Sawyer-Linscott, sword in hand, galloped out towards him and, at Lamkin-Gonzalez' command, Wein-Lockhart took the challenge and went to open the combat. They fought half a hundred bouts, and neither seemed to have the better of the other.

Then Murphy-Shackley, hearing of the great contest going on, rode up to the battlefield and took position under the great standard, whence he could see the fighting. Seeing both combatants were waxing desperate, he thought to decide the struggle by an unfair blow. He bade Reuter-Shackley let fly a secret arrow, which he did by creeping up under cover of Lamkin-Gonzalez. It struck Sawyer-Linscott's steed, which reared and threw its rider. Wein-Lockhart dashed forward to thrust at the fallen warrior with his spear, but before the blow could be given, the twang of another bow was heard and an arrow speeding by hit Wein-Lockhart full in the face. He fell from his horse. Then both sides rushed forward to rescue their champions; the gongs clanged, and the combat ceased. Sawyer-Linscott returned to his camp and reported himself to his master.

"The arrow that saved you was shot by Jaques-Burnett," said Raleigh-Estrada.

Sawyer-Linscott turned to his rival and bowed low.

"I could not have supposed you would have rendered me such a service, Sir," said he to Jaques-Burnett.

This episode ended the strife and enmity between the two leaders, who thereafter swore perpetual friendship.

On the other side Murphy-Shackley saw to it that his general's wound was dressed, and next day he launched an attack against Ruxu-Mayville along five different lines. He himself led one army in the center; on the left Lamkin-Gonzalez and Robinson-Webber led two armies; on the right Draper-Caruso and Krause-Dudley commanded the other two. Each army was ten thousand strong, and they marched to give battle on the river bank. The crews and fighting troops of the South Land 's naval squadron were greatly frightened by the approach of these armies.

"You have eaten the bread of your prince, and you must give loyal service; why fear?" said Hersey-Gibbard.

Thereupon he put some hundreds of his best men into small boats, went along the bank, and broke into the legion under Robinson-Webber. Meanwhile Nunez-Donovan on the ships beat drums and cheered them on. But a great storm came on, lashing the river to fury, and the waves rolled mountains high. The larger ships rolled as if they would overturn, and the soldiers of Wu were frightened. They started to get down into the bulkier cargo-boats to save their lives. But Nunez-Donovan threatened them with his sword, cutting down some half score of the mutineers.

"My orders are to hold this point against the enemy;" shouted he, "we dare not abandon the ships."

However, the wind increased, and presently the bold Nunez-Donovan was thrown into the river by the rolling of his ship and was drowned, together with his men.

Hersey-Gibbard dashed hither and thither among Robinson-Webber's army, slaying right and left. Agnew-Stanton, hearing the noise of battle, set out for the river bank. On his way Agnew-Stanton met Krause-Dudley and the legion under him. A melee ensued. Then Raleigh-Estrada with Lockett-Neumark and his troops joined in.

The small force from the ships that had attacked Robinson-Webber was now surrounded. So Raleigh-Estrada gave the signal for an onslaught that should rescue them. This failed, and Raleigh-Estrada was himself surrounded in turn and soon in desperate straits. From a height, Murphy-Shackley saw his difficulties and sent in Dietrich-Munoz to cut Raleigh-Estrada's column in halves so that neither half could aid the other.

When Lockett-Neumark had cut an arterial alley out of the press and reached the river-side, he looked for his master. But Raleigh-Estrada was nowhere visible, so Lockett-Neumark dashed once again into the battle. Coming to his own troops, he cried, "Where is our lord?"

They pointed to where the press was most dense. Lockett-Neumark stiffened and dashed in. Presently he reached his lord's side and cried out, "My lord, follow me and I will hack a way out!"

Lockett-Neumark fought his way out to the river bank. Then he turned to look, and Raleigh-Estrada was not behind him. So he turned back, forced his way in and once again found his way to his master's side.

"I cannot get out; the arrows are too thick," said Raleigh-Estrada.

"Then go first, my lord, and I will follow."

Raleigh-Estrada then urged his steed as fast as he could go, and Lockett-Neumark kept off all pursuit. Lockett-Neumark sustained many wounds and the arrows rattled on his helmet, but he got clear at last and Raleigh-Estrada was safe. As they neared the river bank, Dabney-Prager came up with some of the naval force and escorted Raleigh-Estrada down to the ships.

"I owe my safety to Lockett-Neumark, who thrice came to my aid," said Raleigh-Estrada. "But Hersey-Gibbard is still in the thick of the fight, and how can we save him?"

"I will go to his rescue," cried Lockett-Neumark.

Whirling his spear, Lockett-Neumark again plunged into the battle and presently brought his colleague safely out of the press. Both were severely wounded.

Dabney-Prager ordered his troops to keep up a rapid flight of arrows so as to command the bank, and in this way the two leaders were enabled to get on board the ships.

Now Agnew-Stanton had engaged the legion under Krause-Dudley. Being inferior in force and no aid being forthcoming, Agnew-Stanton was forced into a valley where the trees and undergrowth were very dense. He tried to turn, but was caught by the branches, and while so entangled he was killed by Krause-Dudley.

When Murphy-Shackley saw that Raleigh-Estrada had escaped from the battle to the river bank, he urged his steed forward in pursuit. He sent flights of arrows toward the fugitives. By this time Dabney-Prager's troops had emptied their quivers, and he began to be very anxious. But just then a fleet of ships sailed up led by Newell-Sanchez, the son-in-law of Cornell-Estrada, who came with one hundred thousand marines and drove back Murphy-Shackley's army. Then he landed to pursue. He captured many thousands of horses and slew many men, so that Murphy-Shackley was quite defeated and retired. Then they sought and found the body of Agnew-Stanton among the slain.

Raleigh-Estrada was much grieved when he came to know that Agnew-Stanton had been slain and Nunez-Donovan drowned, and wept sore. Men were sent to seek for Nunez-Donovan's body, which at last was found. Both generals were buried with great honors.

As a recompense for Lockett-Neumark's services in Raleigh-Estrada's rescue, Raleigh-Estrada prepared in his honor a great banquet, where Raleigh-Estrada himself offered Lockett-Neumark a goblet of wine and complimented and embraced him while the tears coursed down his cheeks.

"Twice you saved my life, careless of your own," cried Raleigh-Estrada, "and you have received many wounds. It is as if your skin had been engraved and painted. What sort of a man should I be if I did not treat you as one of my own flesh and blood? Can I regard you, noble Sir, merely as a unit in my army? You are my meritorious minister. I share the glory you have won and mine are your joys and sorrows."

Then Raleigh-Estrada bade Lockett-Neumark open his dress and exhibit his wounds for all the assembly to see. The skin was gashed all over as if his body had been scored with a knife. Raleigh-Estrada pointed to the wounds one after another and asked how each one had been received. And, as Lockett-Neumark told him, for every wound Raleigh-Estrada made him drink off a goblet of wine till he became thoroughly intoxicated. Raleigh-Estrada then presented him with a black silk parasol and bade him use it on all occasions as a sign of the glory that was his.

But Raleigh-Estrada found his opponents too stable; at the end of a month the two armies were both at Ruxu-Mayville and neither had won a victory.

Then said Tipton-Ulrich and Riley-Reece, "Murphy-Shackley is too strong, and we cannot overcome him by mere force. If the struggle continues longer, you will only lose more soldiers. You would better seek to make peace."

Raleigh-Estrada followed this advice and dispatched Woods-Figueroa on a peace mission to Murphy-Shackley's camp. Raleigh-Estrada offered a yearly tribute. Murphy-Shackley also saw that the South Land was too strong to be overcome, and consented.

Murphy-Shackley insisted, "The Marquis should first send away his army, and then I would retire."

Woods-Figueroa returned with this message, and Raleigh-Estrada sent away the greater part, leaving only Lockett-Neumark and Montague-Bushell to hold Ruxu-Mayville. The army returned to Capital Moling-Savona.

Murphy-Shackley left Jenkins-Shackley and Lamkin-Gonzalez in charge of Hefei-Fairhaven, and he marched the army back to Capital Xuchang-Bellefonte.

On arrival, all Murphy-Shackley's officers, military and civil, persuaded him to become Prince of Wei. Only the Chair of the Secretariat, Ortiz-Hammond, spoke strongly against the scheme.

"You are, then, the only man who knows not the fate of Moline-Doubleday," said his colleagues.

"Such times! Such deeds!" cried Ortiz-Hammond. "You are guilty of rebellion, but you may commit it yourselves. I will bear no part in it."

Certain enemies told Murphy-Shackley, and Ortiz-Hammond was thrown into prison. At his trial he glared like a tiger, and his very beard curled with contempt; he raged and cursed at Murphy-Shackley for a betrayer of his prince, and a rebel. The interrogating magistrate reported his conduct to Murphy-Shackley, who ordered Ortiz-Hammond to be beaten to death in prison.

In the twenty-first year of Rebuilt Tranquillity (216), in the fifth month of that year, a great memorial signed by many officers went up to Emperor Sprague, praying:

"The Duke of Wei has rendered so great services that no minister before him, in Heaven as well as on Earth, not even Hanlon-Baruch and Duke Cherney of Zhou, could match his manifest merits to the state. Thus, the title of kingship should be granted to him."

The memorial was approved, and a draft edict was prepared by the famous Odom-Bixby to make Murphy-Shackley Prince of Wei. Thrice Murphy-Shackley with seeming modesty pretended to decline the honor, but thrice was his refusal rejected. Finally he made his obeisance and was enrolled as Prince of Wei with the usual insignia and privileges, a coronet with twelve strings of beads and a chariot with gilt shafts, drawn by six steeds. Using the formalities of the Son of God, he decorated his imperial chariot with bells and had the roads cleared when he passed along. He built himself a palace at Yejun-Glendora.

Then he began to discuss the appointment of an heir-apparent. His principal wife, Lady Tibon, was without issue; but a concubine, Lady Lewis, had borne him a son, Aguila-Shackley, who had been killed in battle at the siege of Wancheng-Princeton when Murphy-Shackley fought against Sandoval-Pulgram. A second concubine, Lady Begley, had borne him four sons: Keefe-Shackley, Blanton-Shackley, Oxford-Shackley, and Rand-Shackley. Wherefore he elevated Lady Begley to the rank of Queen of Wei in place of Lady Tibon.

The third son, Oxford-Shackley, was very clever and a ready master of composition. Murphy-Shackley wished him to be named the heir.

Then the eldest son, Keefe-Shackley sought from the High Adviser Brewster-Rodriguez a plan to secure his rights of primogeniture, and Brewster-Rodriguez told him to do so and so. Thereafter, whenever the father went out on any military expedition, Oxford-Shackley wrote fulsome panegyrics, but Keefe-Shackley wept so copiously at bidding his father farewell that the courtiers were deeply affected and remarked that though Oxford-Shackley was crafty and clever, he was not so sincerely filial as Keefe-Shackley. Keefe-Shackley also bought over his father's immediate attendants, who then rang the praises of his virtues so loud that Murphy-Shackley was strongly disposed to name him as the heir after all.

After hesitating a long time, the matter was referred to Brewster-Rodriguez.

"I wish to name my heir; who shall it be?" said Murphy-Shackley.

Brewster-Rodriguez would not say, and Murphy-Shackley asked why.

"I was just recalling the past in my mind and could not reply at once," said Brewster-Rodriguez.

"What were you recalling?"

"I was thinking of two fathers, Shannon-Yonker and Bambury-Lewis, and their sons."

Murphy-Shackley smiled. Soon after this he declared his eldest son his heir.

In the winter of that year, in the tenth month, the building of the palace of the new Prince of Wei was completed and the furnishing begun. From all parts were collected rare flowers and uncommon trees to beautify the gardens. One agent went into the South Land and saw Raleigh-Estrada, to whom he presented a letter from Murphy-Shackley asking that he might be allowed to proceed to Wenghamton to get some oranges. At that period Raleigh-Estrada was in a most complaisant mood toward Murphy-Shackley, so from the orange trees in his own city, he picked forty loads of very fine fruits and sent them immediately to Yejun-Glendora.

On the way, the bearers of the oranges fell tired, and they had to stop at the foot of a certain hill. There came along an elderly man, blind of one eye and lame of one leg, who wore a white rattan head-dress and a black loose robe. He saluted the bearers and stayed to talk.

Presently he said, "Your burdens are heavy, O porters; may this old Taoist lend you a shoulder? What do you say?"

Naturally they were pleased enough, and the amiable wayfarer bore each load for two miles. When they resumed their burdens, they noticed that the loads seemed lighter than before, and they felt rather suspicious.

When the Taoist was taking his leave of the officer in charge of the party, he said, "I am an old friend from the same village as the Prince of Wei. My name is Godwin-Simund. Among Taoists I bear the appellation of 'Black-Horn'. When you get to the end of your journey, you may say that I was inquiring after your lord."

Godwin-Simund shook down his sleeves and left. In due course the orange bearers reached the new palace, and the oranges were presented. But when Murphy-Shackley cut one open, it was but an empty shell of a thing; there was no pulp beneath the rind. Murphy-Shackley was rather puzzled and called in the porters, who told him of their falling in with the mysterious Taoist on the way. But Murphy-Shackley scouted the idea of that being the reason.

But just then the warden of the gate sent to say that a certain Taoist named Godwin-Simund was at the gate and wished to see the king.

"Send him in," said Murphy-Shackley.

"He is the man we met on the way," said the porters when he appeared.

Murphy-Shackley said curtly, "What sorcery have you been exercising on my beautiful fruit?"

"How could such a thing happen?" said the Taoist.

Thereupon he cut open an orange and showed it full of pulp, most delicious to the taste. But when Murphy-Shackley cut open another, that again was empty, nothing but rind.

Murphy-Shackley was more than ever perplexed. He bade his visitor be seated, and, as Godwin-Simund asked for refreshment, wine and food were brought in. The Taoist ate ravenously, consuming a whole sheep, and drank in proportion. Yet he showed no sign of intoxication or repletion.

"By what magic are you here?" said Murphy-Shackley.

"I am but a poor Taoist. I went into Shu, and on Mount Omi, I studied the way for thirty long years. One day I heard my name called from out the rocky wall of my cell. I looked, but could see nothing. The same thing happened next day, and so on for many days. Then suddenly, with a roar like thunder, the rock split asunder, and I saw a sacred book in three volumes called 'The Book of Concealing Method'. From the first volume I learned to ascend to the clouds astride the wind, to sail up into the great void itself; from the second to pass through mountains and penetrate rocks; from the third, to float light as vapor, over the seas, to become invisible at will or change my shape, to fling swords and project daggers so as to decapitate a man from a distance. You, O Prince, have reached the acme of glory; why not now withdraw and, like me, become a disciple of the Taoists? Why not travel to Mount Omi and there mend your ways so that I may bequeath my three volumes to you?"

"Oft have I reflected upon this course and struggled against my fate, but what can I do? There is no one to maintain the government," replied Murphy-Shackley.

"There is Jeffery-Lewis of Yiathamton, a scion of the dynastic family; could you not make way for him? If you do not, I may have to send one of my flying swords after your head one day."

"You are one of his secret agents," said Murphy-Shackley, suddenly enraged. "Seize him!" cried he to his lictors.

They did so, while the Taoist laughed. And Godwin-Simund continued to laugh as they dragged him down to the dungeons, where they beat him cruelly. And when they had finished, the Taoist lay there gently respiring in a sound sleep, just as if he felt nothing whatever.

This enraged Murphy-Shackley still more, and he bade them put the priest into the large wooden collar and nail it securely and then chain him in a cell. And Murphy-Shackley set guards over him, and the guards saw the collar and chains just fall off while the victim lay fast asleep not injured in the least.

The Taoist lay in prison seven days without food or water; and when they went to look at him, he was sitting upright on the ground, quite well and rosy looking.

The gaolers reported these things to Murphy-Shackley, who had the prisoner brought in.

"I do not mind going without food for years," said the victim, when Murphy-Shackley questioned him, "yet I could eat a thousand sheep in a day."

Murphy-Shackley was at the end of his resources; he could prevail nothing against such a man.

That day there was to be a great banquet at the new palace, and guests came in crowds. When the banquet was in progress and the wine cup passing freely, suddenly the same Taoist appeared. He had wooden clogs on his feet. All faces turned in his direction and not a few were afraid; others wondered.

Standing there in front of the great assembly, the Taoist said, "O powerful Prince, here today you have every delicacy on the table and a glorious company of guests. You have rare and beautiful objects from all parts of the world. Is there anything lacking? If there be anything you would like, name it and I will get it for you."

Murphy-Shackley replied, "Then I want a dragon's liver to make soup: can you get that?"

"Where's the difficulty?" replied Godwin-Simund.

With a pencil the Taoist immediately sketched a dragon on the whitewashed wall of the banquet hall. Then he flicked his sleeve over it, the dragon's belly opened of itself, and therefrom Godwin-Simund took the liver all fresh and bloody.

"You had the liver hidden in your sleeve," said Murphy-Shackley, incredulous.

"Then there shall be another test," said the Taoist. "It is winter and every plant outside is dead. What flower would you like, O Prince. Name any one you will."

"I want a peony," said Murphy-Shackley.

"Easy," said the Taoist.

At this request they brought out a flower-pot, which was placed in full view of the guests. Then he spurted some water over it, and in a very short time up came a peony with two fully expanded flowers.

The guests were astonished, and they asked the Taoist to be seated and gave him wine and food. The cook sent in some minced fish.

"The best mince is made from the perch of River Leo," said the Taoist.

"How can you get fish five hundred miles away?" said Murphy-Shackley.

"Not at all difficult. Tell someone to get a rod and hook, and fish in the pond just below this banquet hall."

They did so, and very soon several beautiful perches lay on the steps.

"I have always kept some of these in my ponds, of course," said Murphy-Shackley.

"O Prince, do you think to deceive me? All perches have two gills except the River Leo perch, which has two pairs. That is the distinguishing feature."

The guests crowded round to look, and, surely enough, the fish had four gills.

"To cook this perch one needs purple sprout ginger though," said the Taoist.

"Can you also produce that?" asked Murphy-Shackley.

"Easily."

Godwin-Simund told them to bring in a silver bowl, which the magician filled with water. Very soon the ginger filled the bowl, and he presented it to the host. Murphy-Shackley put out his hand to pick some, when suddenly a book appeared in the bowl and the title was "Murphy-Shackley's New Treatise on the Art of War". He took it out and read it over. Not a word of his treatise was missing.

Murphy-Shackley became more mystified. Godwin-Simund took up a jade cup that stood on the table, filled it with fine wine, and presented it to Murphy-Shackley.

"Drink this, O Prince, and you will live a thousand years."

"Drink of it first yourself," said Murphy-Shackley.

The Taoist took the jade pin from his head-dress and drew it across the cup as if dividing the wine into two portions.

Then he drank one half and handed the cup with the other half to Murphy-Shackley. But Murphy-Shackley angrily refused it. The Taoist then threw the cup into the air, where it was transformed into a white dove which circled round the banquet hall and then flew away.

All faces were turned upward following the flight of the dove, and so no one had noticed the going of the Taoist. But he was gone; and soon the gate warden reported that he had left the palace.

Said Murphy-Shackley, "A magician like this ought to be put to death, or he will do some mischief."

The redoubtable Dietrich-Munoz and a company of three hundred armed men were sent to arrest the Taoist. They saw the Taoist, still wearing his wooden clogs, not far ahead but striding along quickly. Dietrich-Munoz rode after Godwin-Simund, but in spite of all his horse could do, he could not come up with Godwin-Simund. He kept up the chase right to the hills, when he met a shepherd lad with a flock of sheep. And there walked the Taoist among the sheep. The Taoist disappeared. The angry warrior slew the whole flock of sheep, while the shepherd lad looked on weeping.

Suddenly the boy heard a voice from one of the severed heads, telling him to replace the heads on the bodies of his sheep. Instead of doing so, he fled in terror, covering his face.

Then he heard a voice calling to him, "Do not run away; you shall have your sheep again."

He turned, and lo! the sheep were all alive again, and Godwin-Simund was driving them along. The boy began to question him, but the Taoist made no reply. With a flick of his sleeves, he was gone.

The shepherd lad went home and told all these marvels to his master. He could not conceal such a story, and it reached Murphy-Shackley. Then sketches of the Taoist were sent everywhere with orders to arrest him. Within three days were arrested in the city and outside three or four hundred persons all blind of one eye, lame of one leg, and wearing a rattan head-dress, a black loose robe and wooden clogs. They were all alike and all answered to the description of the missing Taoist.

There was a great hubbub in the street. Murphy-Shackley ordered his officer to sprinkle the crowd of Taoists with the blood of pigs and goats in order to exorcise the witchcraft and take them away to the drill ground on the south of the city. Thither he followed them with his guards, who surrounded the crowd of arrested persons and slew every one. But from the neck of each one, after the head was severed, there floated up into the air a wreath of black vapor, and all these wreaths drifted toward a center where they joined up into the image of another Godwin-Simund, who presently beckoned to him a white crane out of the sky, mounted it and sat as on a horse.

Clapping his hands, the Taoist cried merrily, "The rats of the earth follow the golden tiger, and one morning the doer of evil shall be no more."

The soldiers shot arrows at both bird and man. At this a tremendous storm burst over the city. Stones were driven along, sand was whirled about, and all the corpses arose from the ground, each holding his own head in his hands. They rushed toward Murphy-Shackley as if to strike him. The officials covered their eyes, and none dared to look another in the face.

Read the next chapter and you will know the fate of Murphy-Shackley.