“My ears are widely opened towards your auspicious words, benevolence,” replied Lin.

“You, Cheng Lin, are still too young to be concerned with the question of Passing Beyond; your imperishable father is, one is compelled to say, already old enough to go.  As regards both persons, therefore, the assumed virtue of one burial robe above another should be merely a matter of speculative interest.  Now if some arrangement should be suggested, not unprofitable to yourself, by which one robe might be imperceptibly substituted for another—­and, after all, one burial robe is very like another—­”

“The prospect of deceiving a trustful and venerated sire is so ignoble that scarcely any material gain would be a fitting compensation—­were it not for the fact that an impending loss of vision renders the deception somewhat easy to accomplish.  Proceed, therefore, munificence, towards a precise statement of your open-handed prodigality.”
                                  *

Indescribable was the bitterness of Shen Heng’s throat when Cheng Lin unfolded his burden and revealed the Wang Ho thousand-tael burial robe, with an unassuming request for the return of the purchase money, either in gold or honourable paper, as the article was found unsuitable.  Shen Heng shook the rafters of the Golden Abacus with indignation, and called upon his domestic demons, the spirits of eleven generations of embroidering ancestors, and the illuminated tablets containing the High Code and Authority of the Distinguished Brotherhood of Coffin Cloth and Burial Robe Makers in protest against so barbarous an innovation.

Bowing repeatedly and modestly expressing himself to the effect that it was incredible that he was not justly struck dead before the sublime spectacle of Shen Heng’s virtuous indignation, Cheng Lin carefully produced the written lines of the agreement, gently directing the Distinguished Brother’s fire-kindling eyes to an indicated detail.  It was a provision that the robe should be returned and the purchase money restored if the garment was not all that was therein stipulated:  with his invariable painstaking loyalty Lin had insisted upon this safeguard when he drew up the form, although, probably from a disinclination to extol his own services, he had omitted mentioning the fact to Wang Ho in their recent conversation.

With deprecating firmness Lin directed Shen Heng’s reluctant eyes to another line—­the unfortunate exaction of fifty taels in return for the guarantee that the robe should be permeated with the spirit of rejuvenation.  As the undoubted embroiderer of the robe—­one Min of the family of Hsi—­had admittedly Passed Beyond almost with the last stitch, it was evident that she could only have conveyed by her touch an entirely contrary emanation.  If, as Shen Heng never ceased to declare, Min was still somewhere alive, let her be produced and a fitting token of reconciliation would be forthcoming; otherwise,