When this long ceremony was completed, the Regent informed us that we must now proceed to the tribunal. Some porters were sent for, and found in very brief time. A Lama of the police had only to present himself in the street and summon, in the name of the law, all the passers by, men, women, and children, to come into the house immediately and assist the government. At Lha-Ssa, the system of enforced labour is in a most prosperous and flourishing state; the Thibetians coming into it with entire willingness and good grace. When enough labourers were collected, all our goods were distributed among them, and the room was completely cleared, and the procession to the tribunal set out with great pomp. A Thibetian horse soldier, his drawn sword in hand, and his fusil at his side, opened the procession; after him came the troop of porters, marching between two lines of Lama satellites; the Regent, on his white charger, surrounded by a mounted guard of honour, followed our baggage; and last, behind the Regent, marched the two poor French missionaries, who had, by way of suite, a no very agreeable crowd of gapers. Our mien was not particularly imposing. Led like malefactors, or, at least, like suspected persons, we could only lower our eyes, and modestly pass through the numerous crowd that thronged on our way. Such a position was, indeed, very painful and humiliating; but the remembrance of our holy Saviour, dragged to the pretorium, through the streets of Jerusalem, was sufficient to mitigate the bitterness with which we were afflicted. We prayed to him to sanctify our humiliations by his own, and to accept them in remembrance of his Passion. When we arrived at the tribunal, the Chinese ambassador [Picture: Carrying goods to the Tribunal] attended by his staff, was already in his place. The Regent addressed him: “You want to examine the effects of these strangers; here they are; examine them. These men are neither rich, nor powerful, as you suppose.” There was vexation in the tone of the Regent, and, at bottom, he was naturally enough annoyed at this part of policeman which he had to play. Ki-Chan asked us if we had no more than two trunks. “Only two; everything has been brought here; there remains in our house not a rag, not a bit of paper.” “What have you got in your two trunks?” “Here are the keys; open them, empty them, and examine them at your pleasure.” Ki-Chan blushed, and moved back. His Chinese delicacy was touched. “Do these trunks belong to me?” he said, with emotion. “Have I the right to open them? If anything should be missed afterwards, what would you say?” “You need not be afraid; our religion forbids us rashly to judge our neighbour.” “Open your trunks yourselves; I want to know what they contain; it is my duty to do so; but you alone have the right to touch what belongs to you.”