“‘It seems to me they do,’ I replied, ‘for not only shall I suffer death by a thousand cuts, but my heirs, if over the age of fourteen, have all to suffer death by decapitation, and, alas! dear brother, I have made you my heir.’ “‘Our laws may be severe, perhaps,’ replied he, ‘but surely they are not vindictive, and under the circumstances I decline to receive the legacy.’ “‘That, poor brother, is I fear unavailing, for the intimate friends of a parricide suffer death by strangulation, and all know how dear you have been to me. Yes,’ I concluded, ‘I think, after all, perhaps the punishment is a just one for such an evil person as one who would kill his father, and my death will be all the more bitter to me, knowing that you, my friend, must also suffer with me.’ “At these my words Lung Fook was greatly moved. His anxiety to have me proved innocent became beautiful to witness. He raved against our national penal code, he wept for the tortures I was soon to suffer, and begged and implored me to think of some means whereby the law might be circumvented. I pointed out that the laws were just, that they did not err on the side of severity, and I also discoursed at some length on the painlessness of death by strangulation, provided always that the executioner were a man of experience. I recalled to mind that the executioner of Ten Li was but a youth and somewhat slow-witted, but I trusted that the bystanders would be able to give him helpful advice and suggestions when occasion might arise. Lung Fook now became quite upset, and offered me many taels of silver if I could devise some plan whereby my innocence might be proved. In the tenderest manner I bade him farewell that day and begged him to come next day when I might have thought of some scheme. In the meanwhile I begged him to sleep well, to avoid all worry, and to be certain to bring me money next day. “Next morning he reappeared greatly agitated, and was much relieved when I told him I had hopes of successfully proving that the bones did not belong to my parent. First, however, I begged him to hand over the money, which he did with some reluctance. “My plan was this. Lung Fook had one juggling trick in which he put a small boy in a basket and apparently killed him with a sword, anyway blood flowed freely during the performance. I told Lung Fook that he must teach me how to produce this blood and also make it of such a nature that it would not soak into dry bones. He seemed much relieved and departed, having two days in which to experiment and find a blood-like fluid which would not soak in. “After a day’s absence he returned with a rabbit’s bladder filled with a red fluid. He explained that he had mixed his ordinary fluid used in conjuring tricks with lacquer, that he had tested it on several dry bones, that it absolutely refused to soak in, and so he regarded my life, and incidentally his own, as safe.