“Do not fear,” said Hien.  “It is elsewhere written, ’Love and leprosy few escape,’ and the spirit of Tsin Lung’s destiny is perhaps even at this moment lurking unsuspected behind some secret place.”

“If,” exclaimed a familiar voice, “the secret place alluded to should chance to be a hollow cedar-tree of inadequate girth, the unfortunate spirit in question will have my concentrated sympathy.”

“Just and magnanimous father!” exclaimed Fa Fei, thinking it more prudent not to recognize that he had learned of their meeting-place and concealing himself there had awaited their coming, “when your absence was discovered a heaven-sent inspiration led me to this spot.  Have I indeed been permitted here to find you?”

“Assuredly you have,” replied Thang-li, who was equally desirous of concealing the real circumstances, although the difficulty of the position into which he had hastily and incautiously thrust his body on their approach compelled him to reveal himself.  “The same inspiration led me to lose myself in this secluded spot, as being the one which you would inevitably search.”

“Yet by what incredible perversity does it arise, venerable Thang-li, that a leisurely and philosophical stroll should result in a person of your dignified proportions occupying so unattractive a position?” said Hien, who appeared to be too ingenuous to suspect Thang-li’s craft, in spite of a warning glance from Fa Fei’s expressive eyes.

“The remark is a natural one, O estimable youth,” replied Thang-li, doubtless smiling benevolently, although nothing of his person could be actually seen by Hien or Fa Fei, “but the recital is not devoid of humiliation.  While peacefully studying the position of the heavens this person happened to glance into the upper branches of a tree and among them he beheld a bird’s nest of unusual size and richness—­one that would promise to yield a dish of the rarest flavour.  Lured on by the anticipation of so sumptuous a course, he rashly trusted his body to an unworthy branch, and the next moment, notwithstanding his unceasing protests to the protecting Powers, he was impetuously deposited within this hollow trunk.”

“Not unreasonably is it said, ’A bird in the soup is better than an eagle’s nest in the desert,’” exclaimed Hien.  “The pursuit of a fair and lofty object is set about with hidden pitfalls to others beyond you, O noble Chief Examiner!  By what nimble-witted act of adroitness is it now your enlightened purpose to extricate yourself?”

At this admittedly polite but in no way inspiring question a silence of a very acute intensity seemed to fall on that part of the forest.  The mild and inscrutable expression of Hien’s face did not vary, but into Fa Fei’s eyes there came an unexpected but not altogether disapproving radiance, while, without actually altering, the appearance of the tree encircling Thang-li’s form undoubtedly conveyed the impression that the benevolent smile which might hitherto have been reasonably assumed to exist within had been abruptly withdrawn.