By this time Ts’i and Sung and Wei and the whole empire were taking notice too.  There was actually a state where crime was unknown; where law ruled and the government was strong, and yet, the people more than contented; a state—­and such a state!—­ looming ahead as the probable seat of a Bretwalda.  Lu with the hegemony!  This old orthodox strict Lu!—­this home of lost causes!—­this back number, and quaint chinoiserie to be laughed at!—­As if Morgan Shuster had carried on his work in Persia until Persia had become of a strength to threaten the world.  Lu was growing strong; and Ts’i—­renowned military Ts’i—­thought she ought to be doing something.  Thus in our own time, whenever somnolent obsolete Turkey tried to clean her house, Russia, land-hungry and looking to a Thanksgiving Dinner presently, felt a call to send down emissaries, and—­see that the cleaning should not be done.

Duke Ching of Ts’i, at the first attempt, bungled his plans badly.  He would not strike at the root of things, Confucius; perhaps retained too much respect for him; perhaps simply did not understand; but at that harmless mutton Marquis Ting who Confucius had successfully camouflaged up to look like a lion.  To that end he formally sought an alliance with Lu, and the Lu Minister of Crime concurred.  He intended that there should be more of these alliances.

An altar was raised on the frontier, where the two princes were to meet and sign the treaty.  Duke Ching had laid his plans; but they did not include the presence of Confucius at the altar as Master or the Ceremonies on the side of Lu.  There he was, however; and after all, it could hardly make much difference.  The preliminary rites went forward.  Suddenly, a roll of drums; a rush of ‘savages’ out of ambush;—­there were savage tribes in those parts;—­confusion; the Marquis’s guard, as the Duke’s, is at some little distance; and clearly it is for the Marquis that these ‘savages’ are making.  But Confucius is there.  He steps between the kidnappers and his master, “with elbows spread like wings” hustles the latter off into safety; takes hold of the situation; issues sharp orders to the savages—­who are of course Ts’i troops in disquise:  Attention!  About face!—­Double march!—­snaps out the words of command in right military style, right in the presence of their own duke, who stands by amazed and helpless;—­and off they go.  Then spaciously clears the matter up.  Finds, no doubt, that it is all a mistake; supplies, very likely, an easy and acceptable explanation to save Ching’s face; shortly has all things peaceably in status quo. Then brings back his marquis, and goes forward with the treaty; but now as Master of the Ceremonies and something more.  There had been a land question between Lu and Ts’i:  Lu territory seized some time since by her strong neighbor, and the cause of much soreness on the one hand and exultation on the other.  By the time that treaty had been signed Duke Ching of Ts’i had ceded back the land to Marquis Ting of Lu,—­a thing assuredly he had never dreamed of doing; and an alliance had been established between the two states.  Since the Duke of Chow’s time, Lu had never stood so high.