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it after him, and then stood staring at me with quick, inquisitive eyes. Every action, even the way he breathed, showed me that the man labored under great excitement. His face was more pallid than usual; his long fingers beat inconsequent tattoos upon the breast of his coat. It was perfectly obvious that something serious had happened.

Suddenly he shot out his open hand, saying, "You are my friend?"

"I hope so."

"I think I understand you, Clandon. You have the cold blood of the Englishman, the thoughtful brain."

"My dear Loh, you flatter me."

"I do not mean to flatter, Clandon; no Chinese compliments, as you call them. I only think you are not so great a fool as I."

"But I insist, my dear Loh; you are very kind."

He waved his hand deprecatingly.

"I insist that you are not so great a fool. If you were, should I come to you?"

"But I protest."

"Listen. How many times have you said, 'Loh, vou are a yellow turnip; you fail utterly to do yourself justice?' Tell me, how many times?"

"I hope I was never so rude."

"I threw away the husk, but preserved the kernel. The rudeness was forgiven for the wisdom within it. Is a man a swine that he should lead the swine's life of horrid indolence? Was imagination given him to gloze his imperfections? You are a wise man, Clandon; tell me."

"It was scarcely necessary that you should come to me for such an obvious reply. What has happened?"

He looked at the door; then he turned once more and faced me.

"Clandon, you are my friend?"

"Remember," said I, "that it is you who have come to me. I have not sought your confidence."

"Pardon me." Again he looked round. Then he uttered oracularly the Chinese proverb: "When you converse in the road, remember there are men in the grass."

"You are perfectly safe here."

"Then, Clandon, I'm in trouble."

I looked at him without speaking. The surest way to obtain a secret is to evince but slight curiosity concerning it.

"You are not inquisitive?"

"My dear Loh, I rely entirely upon your wisdom."

For a few moments he remained silent, as if cogitating within himself. Then he said: "I am in disgrace."

Here, too, I might have indulged in a little cheap moralizing on the fickleness of princes, but out of deference to his feelings I refrained. At the same time, I wasnot a little surprised. I should have given the secretary a longer lease of royal favor.

"How did your wisdom let you stumble so foolishly?"

He looked hard at me, lowered his voice, and whispered: "Woman."

This was odd. That a stupid white man should make a fool of himself for a woman was a recognized form of idiocy; but that a philosophic Chinaman should court disgrace for such a worthless cause was enough to make the learned Confucius turn in his grave.

"My dear Loh," I answered, "you disappoint me horribly. Who is the lady?"

"The Princess Me."

"The sister of the Emperor?"

The secretary bowed his head and murmured: "Unhappy Loh."

"And the Emperor knows?"

"If he did, think you I should be alive to answer that question?"

I did not. And yet the Emperor must know something, else how could the secretary be in disgrace?

"He knows nothing for certain," Loh answered, in reply to my query; "but I believe he is growing suspicious."

"Then you are not absolutely in disgrace?"

"No; but I feel that I am tottering upon the verge."

"Then draw back while it is yet time."

"You do not understand. We have met many times in secret. We love