“Alas!” exclaimed Shan Tien bitterly, “among the innumerable drawbacks of an exacting position the enforced reliance upon an unusually inept and more than ordinarily self-opinionated inscriber of the spoken word is perhaps the most illimitable.  Owing to your profuse incompetence that which began as an agreeable prelude to a busy day has turned into a really serious matter.”

“Yet, lenience,” pleaded the hapless Ming-shu, lowering his voice for the Mandarin’s private ear, “so far the danger resides in this one throat alone.  That disposed of—­”

“Perchance,” replied Shan Tien; then turning to Kai Lung:  “Doubtless, O story-teller, you were so overcome by the burden of your guilt that until this moment you have hidden the knowledge of it deep within your heart?”

“Magnificence, the commanding quality of your enduring voice would draw the inner matter from a marrow-bone,” frankly replied Kai Lung.  “Fearful lest this crime might go unconfessed and my weak and trembling ghost therefrom be held to bear its weight unto the end of time, I set out the full happening in a written scroll and sent it at daybreak by a sure and secret hand to a scrupulous official to deal with as he sees fit.”

“Your worthy confidant would assuredly be a person of incorruptible integrity?”

“The repute of the upright Censor K’o-yih had reached even these stunted ears.”

“Inevitably:  the Censor K’o-yih!” Shan Tien’s hasty glance took in the angle of the sun and for a moment rested on the door leading to the part where his swiftest horses lay.  “By this time the message will have reached him?”

“Omnipotence,” replied Kai Lung, spreading out his hands to indicate the full extent of his submission, “not even a piece of the finest Ping-hi silk could be inserted between the deepest secret of this person’s heart and your all-extracting gaze.  Should you, in your meritorious sense of justice, impose upon me a punishment that would seem to be adequate, it would be superfluous to trouble the obliging Censor in the matter.  To this end the one who bears the message lurks in a hidden corner of Tai until a certain hour.  If I am in a position to intercept him there he will return the message to my hand; if not, he will straightway bear it to the integritous K’o-yih.”

“May the President of Hades reward you—­I am no longer in a position to do so!” murmured Shan Tien with concentrated feeling.  “Draw near, Kai Lung,” he continued sympathetically, “and indicate—­with as little delay as possible—­what in your opinion would constitute a sufficient punishment.”

Thus invited and with his cords unbound, Kai Lung advanced and took his station near the table, Ming-shu noticeably making room for him.

“To be driven from your lofty presence and never again permitted to listen to the wisdom of your inspired lips would undoubtedly be the first essential of my penance, High Excellence.”