“Thy house, Far Reacher, is the well-known dwelling of pleasantness and peace.” When Quong Lung would have seated Wau Shun on the chair of which the highbinder had such a lively recollection, the coolie shook his head, saying: “Nay, who is thy slave that he should sit in the presence of the Most Powerful. The ground thou treadest is good enough for him.” And Wau Shun squatted on the floor before his chief. “There is no harm in the chair, Wau Shun,” said Quong Lung, seating himself on it carelessly, “no harm unless, indeed, the sitter tells lies or have deceit in his heart.” Then, after a pause, he went on: “The writings of Lee Toy--thou hast brought them?” “Of a surety,” replied Wau Shun, producing a packet of papers from his blouse. After Quong Lung had looked through them, and satisfied himself that they were authentic and complete, he said: “Wau Shun, the white devils say that virtue is its own reward; but that would be poor reward for such virtuous actions as thine. Thou shalt drink with me first, and then expound to me how I may lighten the burden of obligations thou hast laid on me.” He went to the table, and pouring out two glasses of spirits, he advanced with them on a tray to the squatting coolie. After they had drunk, Quong Lung resumed his seat, and lighting a cigar, he said: “It is not meet that he who hath saved my life this day should crouch on the ground like a dog. Let Wau Shun take my own particular chair, whereon none have sat save those I would honor--nay, I insist”; and Quong Lung pointed to the great chair of ebony, broad enough to accommodate two men such as himself. It was adorned with a shield of bronze, richly carved and inlaid, that formed its back; and it stood on a dais of burnished copper, and might have been the throne of an Oriental potentate; and behind it was a mirror which reflected the exquisite carving on its back. When Wau Shun, after much protestation, had ensconced himself in a corner of the great chair, Quong Lung once more filled the glasses, and again they drank in silence. “And now, Wau Shun, though I can not weigh my gold against thy services to me, yet, I pray thee, name some reward that will not put me to shame to bestow on thee.” “Will the payment of fifty dollars afflict thee, my lord?” “Nay, Wau Shun, that is the due of but a part of thy merits--the slaying of Sam Lee, for instance. Here is more for thy other many good deeds,” and Quong Lung tossed on the table a heavy bag that chinked opulently. “Moreover,” he continued, “now that Lee Toy, our keenest hatchet, is dead, some worthy successor to him must be found, and who so worthy as Wau Shun, the slayer of the uncommon slain, Lee Toy?” “Further, Instigator,” interrupted Wau Shun, squinting atrociously, for the liquor had begun to mount to his head; “further, it seems to me that if anything happened to thee--which God forbid!--_I_ might be found worthy to sit in this thy chair by reason of thy recommendation, and--my worthiness.”