Some Chinese Ghosts | Page 7

of the years of Thang, until
far into the night. More than once Ming-Y thought of departing; but
each time Sië would begin, in that silver-sweet voice of hers, so
wondrous a story of the great poets of the past, and of the women
whom they loved, that he became as one entranced; or she would sing
for him a song so strange that all his senses seemed to die except that of

hearing. And at last, as she paused to pledge him in a cup of wine,
Ming-Y could not restrain himself from putting his arm about her
round neck and drawing her dainty head closer to him, and kissing the
lips that were so much ruddier and sweeter than the wine. Then their
lips separated no more;--the night grew old, and they knew it not.
* * * * *
The birds awakened, the flowers opened their eyes to the rising sun,
and Ming-Y found himself at last compelled to bid his lovely
enchantress farewell. Sië, accompanying him to the terrace, kissed him
fondly and said, "Dear boy, come hither as often as you are able,--as
often as your heart whispers you to come. I know that you are not of
those without faith and truth, who betray secrets; yet, being so young,
you might also be sometimes thoughtless; and I pray you never to
forget that only the stars have been the witnesses of our love. Speak of
it to no living person, dearest; and take with you this little souvenir of
our happy night."
And she presented him with an exquisite and curious little thing,--a
paper-weight in likeness of a couchant lion, wrought from a jade-stone
yellow as that created by a rainbow in honor of Kong-fu-tze. Tenderly
the boy kissed the gift and the beautiful hand that gave it. "May the
Spirits punish me," he vowed, "if ever I knowingly give you cause to
reproach me, sweetheart!" And they separated with mutual vows.
That morning, on returning to the house of Lord Tchang, Ming-Y told
the first falsehood which had ever passed his lips. He averred that his
mother had requested him thenceforward to pass his nights at home,
now that the weather had become so pleasant; for, though the way was
somewhat long, he was strong and active, and needed both air and
healthy exercise. Tchang believed all Ming-Y said, and offered no
objection. Accordingly the lad found himself enabled to pass all his
evenings at the house of the beautiful Sië. Each night they devoted to
the same pleasures which had made their first acquaintance so
charming: they sang and conversed by turns; they played at chess,--the
learned game invented by Wu-Wang, which is an imitation of war; they
composed pieces of eighty rhymes upon the flowers, the trees, the

clouds, the streams, the birds, the bees. But in all accomplishments Sië
far excelled her young sweetheart. Whenever they played at chess, it
was always Ming-Y's general, Ming-Y's tsiang, who was surrounded
and vanquished; when they composed verses, Sië's poems were ever
superior to his in harmony of word-coloring, in elegance of form, in
classic loftiness of thought. And the themes they selected were always
the most difficult,--those of the poets of the Thang dynasty; the songs
they sang were also the songs of five hundred years before,--the songs
of Youen-tchin, of Thou-mou, of Kao-pien above all, high poet and
ruler of the province of Sze-tchouen.
So the summer waxed and waned upon their love, and the luminous
autumn came, with its vapors of phantom gold, its shadows of magical
purple.
* * * * *
Then it unexpectedly happened that the father of Ming-Y, meeting his
son's employer at Tching-tou, was asked by him: "Why must your boy
continue to travel every evening to the city, now that the winter is
approaching? The way is long, and when he returns in the morning he
looks fordone with weariness. Why not permit him to slumber in my
house during the season of snow?" And the father of Ming-Y, greatly
astonished, responded: "Sir, my son has not visited the city, nor has he
been to our house all this summer. I fear that he must have acquired
wicked habits, and that he passes his nights in evil company,--perhaps
in gaming, or in drinking with the women of the flower-boats." But the
High Commissioner returned: "Nay! that is not to be thought of. I have
never found any evil in the boy, and there are no taverns nor
flower-boats nor any places of dissipation in our neighborhood. No
doubt Ming-Y has found some amiable youth of his own age with
whom to spend his evenings, and only told me an untruth for fear that I
would not otherwise permit him to leave my residence. I beg that