"It is only old Hoang, the retired innkeeper," said Sing cooly, as if not at all regretting the misfortunes of his successful rival. He could not, however, have possessed any such paltry feeling, for he added, "Will the venerable Hoang permit his younger brother to assist him in discovering these rogues?" "The offer of the worthy Sing is good and grateful to his mean brother, but alas! nothing can avail old Hoang, for the Fong-Choui is his enemy, and will not be satisfied till his house is destroyed," was the reply. To explain what I must tell you, that it is one of the most remarkable and foolish beliefs of the Celestials, that, apart from sanitary reasons, the situation of a house may effect the happiness and fortunes not only of its owner, but his descendants for several generations. The demon who exercises this baneful influence is the Fong-Choui, or wind and water. Thus, if a neighbor (it had been Hoang's case) builds his house in a contrary direction and so that one of its corners is placed opposite your own, your destiny is fixed, your only remedy being to have it immediately pulled down. To obtain the removal of the house in question, Hoang had applied to the mandarin, but as that officer had received a larger bribe from the neighbor than he could afford, the official recommended the old man to pull down his own house; but as this would have ruined him, he had had recourse to the only other remedy, which was, to erect upon the roof of his house a monster with a dragon's head and a large forked tongue, so pointed at the unfortunate corner that it would frighten away the Fong-Choui. That wind and watery personage, however, was not so easily frightened, for the next day some thieves entered his house and effected a very clever robbery. By the aid of a mysterious engine (known, I suppose, only to the thieves of China), which will burn great holes in the thickest wood without causing either scent or flame, the rogues had entered Hoang's dwelling in the night so quietly that when the old gentleman awoke in the morning he found his bed without curtains or coverlid, and the room without furniture, all of which, besides other things of value, had been taken from the house. "Surely thy dogs of servants must have been accomplices," said Chow. "Not so, youth, for although I slept deep into the day, when I arose the servants were all in such a deep slumber that I believed them in the sleep of death." "Surely my elder brother will seek the mandarin, and have the dogs' heads searched for," said Sing. "Alas! O worthy Sing, thy unhappy servant is under the baneful influence of the Fong-Choui, and the mandarin dares not interfere." Feeling deeply for the poor man, and not liking the idea of the thieves escaping so easily, Chow asked, "Has the worthy and honorable Hoang sought the mandarin?" "It would be useless youth, without, indeed, a stranger would interfere, and break the charm of the Fong-Choui."