It was with no little distress of mind that Chow, who now loved Nicholas as a brother, parted with him at the gates of the prison. He tore his hair, beat his breast, and roared and capered as if in bodily as well as mental agony. Never should he see his noble master again; the wicked viceroy would kill him. O that he had not been a Christian, or so unwise as to admit it! These, and many other foolish things, passed through his mind, till he became wearied and fatigued. When more calm, he began to upbraid himself with folly and cowardice, for giving way to useless grief instead of setting his wits to work to aid him. Like most Chinese, Chow believed, or at least followed, the mongrel creed of the country, and he proposed to himself to seek the aid of the gods; although even his faith in their powers had become weakened by the exhibition of the morning; at length, however, it occurred to him to seek the innkeeper, who being well to do, and an old inhabitant of Hang-tcheou, could if willing, give material assistance; if not willing, thought Chow, he must be the most ungrateful of human beings. So he went off to Sing, who was not only glad to see him, but invited him to live at the inn until they could hit upon some good scheme to rescue Nicholas; and so, that night, they talked and talked the matter over, till, becoming tired, they went to bed to sleep on it. The next morning they compared notes as to their sleeping thoughts. The result of Chow's was to get a mob together to burst open the prison gates; at which very wise suggestion Sing laughed loudly, greatly to the disgust of Chow, who became very angry, as he fancied the innkeeper doubted his courage; but when Sing explained a little plan of his own he capered about joyfully, and begged that they might commence immediately. "Let us first ask the gods for a fortunate day," said Sing. "Then will not the worthy Sing seek a temple at once?" said Chow. This being agreed to, they started off to the suburbs, where, in a retired spot, near the great lake, they found a divining temple. These temples, which are sprinkled through the country, are always open for the convenience of the people, who enter upon nothing of importance, whether it be marrying, burying, buying, selling, house-building, party-giving, or setting out upon a journey, without first seeking to discover in the cup of destiny a fortunate day or hour for the proposed undertaking.