In spite of Kai Lung’s consistent denials of any treachery, he could not but be aware that the incident tended greatly to his disadvantage in the eyes of those whom he had fixed a desire to conciliate, nor did his well-intentioned offer that he would without hesitation repeat the display for a like number of hours effect his amiable purpose.  How the complication would finally have been determined without interruption is a matter merely of imagination, for at that moment an outpost, who had been engaged in guarding the secrecy of the expedition, threw himself into the enclosure in a torn and breathless condition, having run through the forest many li in a winding direction for the explicit purpose of warning Lin Yi that his intentions had become known, and that he and his followers would undoubtedly be surprised and overcome if they left the camp.

At this intimation of the eminent service which Kai Lung had rendered them, the nature of their faces towards him at once changed completely, those who only a moment before had been demanding his death particularly hailing him as their inspired and unobtrusive protector, and in all probability, indeed, a virtuous and benignant spirit in disguise.

Bending under the weight of offerings which Lin Yi and his followers pressed upon him, together with many clearly set out desires for his future prosperity, and assured of their unalterable protection on all future occasions, Kai Lung again turned his face towards the lanterns of Knei Yang.  Far down the side of the mountain they followed his footsteps, now by a rolling stone, now by a snapping branch of yellow pine.  Once again they heard his voice, cheerfully repeating to himself; “Among the highest virtues of a pure existence—­” But beyond that point the gentle forest breath bore him away.

CHAPTER II

The story of Yung Chang

Narrated by Kai Lung, in the open space of the tea-shop of The
Celestial Principles, at Wu-whei.

“Ho, illustrious passers-by!” said Kai Lung, the story-teller, as he spread out his embroidered mat under the mulberry-tree.  “It is indeed unlikely that you would condescend to stop and listen to the foolish words of such an insignificant and altogether deformed person as myself.  Nevertheless, if you will but retard your elegant footsteps for a few moments, this exceedingly unprepossessing individual will endeavour to entertain you with the recital of the adventures of the noble Yung Chang, as recorded by the celebrated Pe-ku-hi.”

Thus adjured, the more leisurely-minded drew near to hear the history of Yung Chang.  There was Sing You the fruit-seller, and Li Ton-ti the wood-carver; Hi Seng left his clients to cry in vain for water; and Wang Yu, the idle pipe-maker, closed his shop of “The Fountain of Beauty,” and hung on the shutter the gilt dragon to keep away customers in his absence.  These, together with a few more shopkeepers and a dozen or so loafers, constituted a respectable audience by the time Kai Lung was ready.