Kai Lung’s Golden Hours by Ernest Bramah (an ebook reader .TXT) 📕

who lurks in our past draws near he will doubtless accept from our hands that which he will assuredly possess behind our backs. Thus mutual help will lighten the toil of all.”

“The one whom you require dwells beneath my scanty roof,” said the youth. “He is now, however, absent on a secret mission. Entrust to me the burden of your harassment and I will answer, by the sanctity of the Four-eyed Image, that it shall reach his speedy hand.”

When Lao Ting gained his own room, bowed down but rejoicing beneath the weight of his unexpected fortune, his eyes were gladdened by the soft light that hung about his books. Although it was not yet dark, the radiance of the glow seemed greater than before. Going to the spot the delighted student saw that in place of one there were now four, the grateful insect having meanwhile summoned others to his cause. All these stood in an expectant attitude awaiting his control, so that through the night he plied an untiring brush and leapt onward in the garden of similitudes.

From this time forward Lao Ting could not fail to be aware that the faces of those whom he familiarly encountered were changed towards him. Men greeted him as one worthy of their consideration, and he even heard his name spoken of respectfully in the society of learned strangers. More than once he found garlands of flowers hung upon his outer door, harmonious messages, and⁠—once⁠—a gift of food. Incredible as it seemed to him it had come to be freely admitted that the unknown scholar Lao Ting would take a very high place in the forthcoming competition, and those who were alert and watchful did not hesitate to place him first. To this general feeling a variety of portents had contributed. Doubtless the beginning was the significant fact, known to the few at first, that the miracle-working Tzu-lu had staked his inner garment on Lao Ting’s success. Brilliant lights were seen throughout the night to be moving in the meagre dwelling (for the four efficacious creatures had by this time greatly added to their numbers), and the one within was credited with being assisted by the Forces. It is well said that that which passes out of one mouth passes into a hundred ears, and before dawn had become dusk all the early and astute were following the inspired hermit’s example. They who conducted the lotteries, becoming suddenly aware of the burden of the hazard they incurred, thereat declared that upon the venture of Lao Ting’s success there must be set two taels in return for one. Whereupon the desire of those who had refrained waxed larger than before, and thus the omens grew.

When the days that remained before the opening of the trial could be counted on the fingers of one hand, there came, at a certain hour, a summons on the outer door of Lao Ting’s house, and in response to his spoken invitation there entered one, Sheng-yin, a competitor.

“Lao Ting,” said this person, when they had exchanged formalities, “in spite of the flattering attentions of the shallow”⁠—he here threw upon the floor a garland which he had conveyed from off Lao Ting’s door⁠—“it is exceedingly unlikely that at the first attempt your name will be among those of the chosen, and the possibility of it heading the list may be dismissed as vapid.”

“Your experience is deep and wide,” replied Lao Ting, the circumstance that Sheng-yin had already tried and failed three and thirty times adding an edge to the words; “yet if it is written it is written.”

“Doubtless,” retorted Sheng-yin no less capably; “but it will never be set to music. Now, until your inconsiderate activities prevailed, this person was confidently greeted as the one who would be first.”

“The names of Wang-san and Yin Ho were not unknown to the expectant,” suggested Lao Ting mildly.

“The mind of Wang-san is only comparable with a wastepaper basket,” exclaimed the visitor harshly; “and Yin Ho is in reality as dull as split ebony. But in your case, unfortunately, there is nothing to go on, and, unlikely though it be, it is just possible that this person’s well-arranged ambitions may thereby be brought to a barren end. For that reason he is here to discuss this matter as between virtuous friends.”

“Let your auspicious mouth be widely opened,” replied Lao Ting guardedly. “My ears will not refrain.”

“Is there not, perchance, some venerable relative in a distant part of the province whose failing eyes crave, at this juncture, to rest upon your wholesome features before he passes Upwards?”

“Assuredly some such inopportune person might be forthcoming,” admitted Lao Ting. “Yet the cost of so formidable a journey would be far beyond this necessitous one’s means.”

“In so charitable a cause affluent friends would not be lacking. Depart on the third day and remain until the ninth and twenty taels of silver will glide imperceptibly into your awaiting sleeve.”

“The prospect of not taking the foremost place in the competition⁠—added to the pangs of those who have hazarded their store upon the unworthy name of Lao⁠—is an ignoble one,” replied the student, after a moment’s thought. “The journey will be a costly task at this season of the rains; it cannot possibly be accomplished for less than fifty taels.”

“It is well said, ‘Do not look at robbers sharing out their spoil: look at them being executed,’ ” urged Sheng-yin. “Should you be so ill-destined as to compete, and, as would certainly be the case, be awarded a position of contempt, how unendurable would be your anguish when, amidst the execrations of the deluded mob, you remembered that thirty taels of the purest had slipped from your effete grasp.”

“Should the Bridge of the Camel Back be passable, five and forty might suffice,” mused Lao Ting to himself.

“Thirty-seven taels, five hundred cash, are the utmost that your obliging friends would hazard in the quest,” announced Sheng-yin definitely. “On the day following that of the final competition the sum will be honourably⁠—”

“By no