Ya-nei, for his part, looked in vain for some means of speaking to his neighbor.  When the meal was finished, he returned to his ship and lay down on his bed.

But Elegant was so much occupied in thinking of the young man that she could not touch her dinner.  Leaving her mother alone, she retired to rest and was on the point of going to sleep, when the sound of a song came to her.  It was the voice of Ya-nei, singing: 

  A dream has come to me from the Blue Bowl,
  But I was not able to speak. 
  I could not tell her of my delight
  Or appoint an endless alliance.

She rose softly, opened her cabin door without sound and went up on to the bridge.  Ya-nei was standing on the other ship, and immediately leaped to her side, and boldly took her in his arms.  Between joy and alarm, she did not dare to resist.  He drew her into her cabin and embraced her.

At that moment one of the slaves passed before the cabin and, seeing the door open, cried out: 

“The door is open!  O thieves!”

Elegant at once covered her lover with the blanket, but one of the slaves saw the invader’s feet.  Ho Chang and his wife snatched away the blanket.

“How does this wretch dare to dishonor my family?” cried the Governor in a rage.  “Ah, throw him into the river!”

In spite of the prayers of the culprit and the girl two men seized the former, dragged him away and threw him into the water.  She followed him in despair, crying: 

“I have ruined him!  I wish to follow!”

And she too threw herself into the water.  She woke with a start.  It was only a dream.

Till morning she lay and thought, wondering if this dream were perhaps an omen that her destiny ought not to be bound up with that of Ya-nei.

He also had complicated dreams that night.  He rose in the morning and opened the port-hole of his cabin.  Ho Chang’s ship was touching his own, and the port-hole opposite to him was open.  Elegant appeared there, and their eyes met.  Surprised, delighted and embarrassed, they smiled, as if they had known each other for a long time.  They would gladly have spoken, but were afraid of being heard.  Then she made a small sign to him, retired quickly into her cabin, and rapidly wrote some words on a piece of paper ornamented with sprays of rose peach.  She rolled it in a silk handkerchief and cleverly threw it to Ya-nei, who caught it in both hands.  They saluted each other, and reclosed their port-holes.

He unfolded the handkerchief and smoothed out the crinkled leaf.  It bore this poem: 

  Brocade characters are on this paper of flowers,
  And the bowels of my sorris in this embroidery,
  I have dreamed of a prince
  And, carried upon a cloud, I come to him.

But there was also a little word or two added: 

“This evening your submissive mistress will await you near the lamp.  The noise of my scissors will be the signal for our happiness, and of our meeting.”