Every one was silent. Lifting his eyes the chief looked round from one to another till he came to Kungsun Tsan and then he remarked three men who stood behind his seat. They were of striking appearance as they stood there, all three smiling cynically. “Who are those men behind you?” said the chief. Kungsun told Yüan-tê to come forward, and said, “This is Liu Pei, magistrate of Pʻingyüan and a brother of mine who shared my humble cottage.” “It must be the Liu Yüan-tê who broke up the Yellow Turban rebellion,” said Tsʻao. “It is he,” said his patron and he ordered Liu Pei to make his obeisance to the assembly, to whom he then related his services and his origin, all in full detail. “Since he is of the Han line he should be seated,” said the chief and he bade Liu Pei sit. Liu Pei modestly thanked him. Said Shao, “This consideration is not for your fame and office; I respect you as a scion of the imperial family.” So Liu Pei took his seat in the lowest place of the long line of lords. And his two brothers with folded arms took their stations behind him. Even as they were at this meeting came in a scout to say that Hua Hsiung with a company of mail-clad horsemen was coming down from the Pass. They were flaunting Sun Chien’s captured purple turban on the end of a bamboo pole. The enemy was soon hurling insults at those within the stockade and challenging them to fight. “Who dares go out to give battle?” said the chief. “I will go,” said Yü Shê, a leader who belonged to the train of Yüan Shu. So he went and almost immediately one came back to say that he had fallen in the third bout. Fear began to lay its cold hand on the assembly. Then said another, “I have a brave warrior among my men. Pʻan Fêng is his name and he could slay this Hua Hsiung.” So Pʻan was ordered out to meet the foe. With his great battle-axe in his hand he mounted and rode forth. But soon came the direful tidings that he too had fallen. The faces of the gathering paled at this. “What a pity my two able leaders, Yen Liang and Wên Chʻou, are not here! Then should we have some one who would not fear this man,” said the chief. He had not finished when from the lower end a voice cried, “I will go, take his head and lay it before you here.” All turned to look at the speaker. He was tall and had a long beard. His eyes were those of a phœnix and his eyebrows thick and bushy like caterpillars. His face was a swarthy red and his voice deep as the sound of a great bell. “Who is he?” asked the chief. Kungsun Tsan told them it was Kuan Yü, brother of Liu Yüan-tê. “And what is he?” “He is in the train of Liu Yüan-tê as a mounted archer.” “An insult to us all!” roared the chief’s brother from his place. “Have we no leader? How dare an archer speak thus before us? Let us beat him forth!” But Tsʻao Tsʻao intervened. “Peace, O Kung-lu! Since he speaks great words, he is certainly valiant. Let him try. If he fail, then you may reproach him.”