“Oh, Ling, reflexion of my ideal, holder of my soul, it would indeed be very disagreeable to my own feelings to make any reply save one,” replied Mian, scarcely above a breath-voice. “Gratitude alone would direct me, were it not that the great love which fills me leaves no resting-place for any other emotion than itself. Go if you must, but return quickly, for your absence will weigh upon Mian like a dragon-dream.” “Violet light of my eyes,” exclaimed Ling, “even in surroundings which with the exception of the matter before us are uninspiring in the extreme, your virtuous and retiring encouragement yet raises me to such a commanding eminence of demonstrative happiness that I fear I shall become intolerably self-opinionated towards my fellow-men in consequence.” “Such a thing is impossible with my Ling,” said Mian, with conviction. “But must you indeed journey to Canton?” “Alas!” replied Ling, “gladly would this person decide against such a course did the matter rest with him, for as the Verses say, ‘It is needless to apply the ram’s head to the unlocked door.’ But Ki is demolished, the unassuming Mandarin Li Keen has retired to Peking, and of the fortunes of his bowmen this person is entirely ignorant.” “Such as survived returned to their homes,” replied Mian, “and Si-chow is safe, for the scattered and broken rebels fled to the mountains again; so much this person has learned.” “In that case Si-chow is undoubtedly safe for the time, and can be left with prudence,” said Ling. “It is an unfortunate circumstance that there is no Mandarin of authority between here and Canton who can receive from this person a statement of past facts and give him instructions for the future.” “And what will be the nature of such instructions as will be given at Canton?” demanded Mian. “By chance they may take the form of raising another company of bowmen,” said Ling, with a sigh, “but, indeed, if this person can obtain any weight by means of his past service, they will tend towards a pleasant and unambitious civil appointment.”