in this providential manner, Ling opened his eyes, and faintly murmuring, “Oh, sainted and adorable Koon Yam, Goddess of Charity, intercede for me with Buddha!” he again lost possession of himself in the Middle Air.  At this remark, which plainly proved Ling to be still alive, in spite of the fact that both the maiden and the person himself had thoughts to the contrary, Mian found herself surrounded by a variety of embarrassing circumstances, among which occurred a remembrance of the dead magician and the wise person at Ki whom she had set out to summon; but on considering the various natural and sublime laws which bore directly on the alternative before her, she discovered that her plain destiny was to endeavour to restore the breath in the person who was still alive rather than engage on the very unsatisfactory chance of attempting to call it back to the body from which it had so long been absent.

Having been inspired to this conclusion—­which, when she later examined her mind, she found not to be repulsive to her own inner feelings—­Mian returned to the house with dexterous speed, and calling together the two attendants, she endeavoured by means of signs and drawings to explain to them what she desired to accomplish.  Succeeding in this after some delay (for the persons in question, being very illiterate and narrow-minded, were unable at first to understand the existence of any recumbent male person other than the dead magician, whom they thereupon commenced to bury in the garden with expressions of great satisfaction at their own intelligence in comprehending Mian’s meaning so readily) they all journeyed to the wood, and bearing Ling between them, they carried him to the house without further adventure.

VIII

It was in the month of Hot Dragon Breaths, many weeks after the fight in the woods of Ki, that Ling again opened his eyes to find himself in an unknown chamber, and to recognize in the one who visited him from time to time the incomparable maiden whose life he had saved in the cypress glade.  Not a day had passed in the meanwhile on which Mian had neglected to offer sacrifices to Chang-Chung, the deity interested in drugs and healing substances, nor had she wavered in her firm resolve to bring Ling back to an ordinary existence even when the attendants had protested that the person in question might without impropriety be sent to the Restoring Establishment of the Last Chance, so little did his hope of recovering rest upon the efforts of living beings.

After he had beheld Mian’s face and understood the circumstances of his escape and recovery, Ling quickly shook off the evil vapours which had held him down so long, and presently he was able to walk slowly in the courtyard and in the shady paths of the wood beyond, leaning upon Mian for the support he still required.

“Oh, graceful one,” he said on such an occasion, when little stood between him and the full powers which he had known before the battle, “there is a matter which has been pressing upon this person’s mind for some time past.  It is as dark after light to let the thoughts dwell around it, yet the thing itself must inevitably soon be regarded, for in this life one’s actions are for ever regulated by conditions which are neither of one’s own seeking nor within one’s power of controlling.”