It was with even more objectionable feelings than before that Ling now contemplated his journey to Canton, involving as it did the separation from one who had become as the shadow of his existence, and by whose side he had an undoubted claim to stand.  Yet the necessity of the undertaking was no less than before, and the full possession of all his natural powers took away his only excuse for delaying in the matter.  Without any pleasurable anticipations, therefore, he consulted the Sacred Flat and Round Sticks, and learning that the following day would be propitious for the journey, he arranged to set out in accordance with the omen.

When the final moment arrived at which the invisible threads of constantly passing emotions from one to the other must be broken, and when Mian perceived that her lover’s horse was restrained at the door by the two attendants, who with unsuspected delicacy of feeling had taken this opportunity of withdrawing, the noble endurance which had hitherto upheld her melted away, and she became involved in very melancholy and obscure meditations until she observed that Ling also was quickly becoming affected by a similar gloom.

“Alas!” she exclaimed, “how unworthy a person I am thus to impose upon my lord a greater burden than that which already weighs him down!  Rather ought this one to dwell upon the happiness of that day, when, after successfully evading or overthrowing the numerous bands of assassins which infest the road from here to Canton, and after escaping or recovering from the many deadly pestilences which invariably reduce that city at this season of the year, he shall triumphantly return.  Assuredly there is a highly-polished surface united to every action in life, no matter how funereal it may at first appear.  Indeed, there are many incidents compared with which death itself is welcome, and to this end Mian has reserved a farewell gift.”

Speaking in this manner the devoted and magnanimous maiden placed in Ling’s hands the transparent vessel of liquid which the magician had grasped when he fell.  “This person,” she continued, speaking with difficulty, “places her lover’s welfare incomparably before her own happiness, and should he ever find himself in a situation which is unendurably oppressive, and from which death is the only escape—­such as inevitable tortures, the infliction of violent madness, or the subjection by magic to the will of some designing woman—­she begs him to accept this means of freeing himself without regarding her anguish beyond expressing a clearly defined last wish that the two persons in question may be in the end happily reunited in another existence.”

Assured by this last evidence of affection, Ling felt that he had no longer any reason for internal heaviness; his spirits were immeasurably raised by the fragrant incense of Mian’s great devotion, and under its influence he was even able to breathe towards her a few words of similar comfort as he left the spot and began his journey.