“Nevertheless,” replied Hien, in a violent access of self-contempt, “it is a name of abandoned omen and is destined only to reach the ears of posterity to embellish the proverb of scorn, ’The lame duck should avoid the ploughed field.’  Can there—­can there by no chance have been some hope-inspiring error?”

“Thus were the names inscribed on the parchment which after the public announcement will be affixed to the Hall of Ten Thousand Lustres,” replied Fa Fei.  “With her own unworthy eyes this incapable person beheld it.”

“The name ‘Hien’ is in no way striking or profound,” continued the one in question, endeavouring to speak as though the subject referred to some person standing at a considerable distance away.  “Furthermore, so commonplace and devoid of character are its written outlines that it has very much the same appearance whichever way up it is looked at. . . .  The possibility that in your graceful confusion you held the list in such a position that what appeared to be the end was in reality the beginning is remote in the extreme, yet—­”

In spite of an absorbing affection Fa Fei could not disguise from herself that her feelings would have been more pleasantly arranged if her lover had been inspired to accept his position unquestioningly.  “There is a detail, hitherto unrevealed, which disposes of all such amiable suggestions,” she replied.  “After the name referred to, someone in authority had inscribed the undeniable comment ‘As usual.’”

“The omen is a most encouraging one,” exclaimed Hien, throwing aside all his dejection.  “Hitherto this person’s untiring efforts had met with no official recognition whatever.  It is now obvious that far from being lost in the crowd he is becoming an object of honourable interest to the examiners.”

“One frequently hears it said, ’After being struck on the head with an axe it is a positive pleasure to be beaten about the body with a wooden club,’” said Fa Fei, “and the meaning of the formerly elusive proverb is now explained.  Would it not be prudent to avail yourself at length of the admittedly outrageous Tsin Lung’s services, so that this period of unworthy trial may be brought to a distinguished close?”

“It is said, ‘Do not eat the fruit of the stricken branch,’” replied Hien, “and this person will never owe his success to one who is so detestable in his life and morals that with every facility for a scholarly and contemplative existence he freely announces his barbarous intention of becoming a pirate.  Truly the Dragon of Justice does but sleep for a little time, and when he awakens all that will be left of the mercenary Tsin Lung and those who associate with him will scarcely be enough to fill an orange skin.”

“Doubtless it will be so,” agreed Fa Fei, regretting, however, that Hien had not been content to prophesy a more limited act of vengeance, until, at least, her father had come to a definite decision regarding her own future.  “Alas, though, the Book of Dynasties expressly says, ‘The one-legged never stumble,’ and Tsin Lung is so morally ill-balanced that the proverb may even apply to him.”