KAI LUNG'S GOLDEN HOURS
dispassionately; and drawing his cloak more closely about him he would have composed himself into a reverent attitude to Pass Beyond.
"Not so!" cried Ten-teh, rising in his inspired purpose and standing upright despite the fever that possessed him; "the jewel is precious beyond comparison and the casket mean and falling to pieces, but there is none other. This person will bear the warning."
The stranger looked up from the ground in an increasing wonder. "You do but dream, old man," he said in a compassionate voice. "Before me stands one of trembling limbs and infirm appearance. His face is the colour of potter's clay; his eyes sunken and yellow. His bones protrude everywhere like the points of armour, while his garment is scarcely fitted to afford protection against a summer breeze."
"Such dreams do not fade with the light," replied Ten-teh resolutely. "His feet are whole and untired; his mind clear. His heart is as inflexibly fixed as the decrees of destiny, and, above all, his purpose is one which may reasonably demand divine encouragement."
"Yet there are the Han-sing mountains, flung as an unsurmountable barrier across the way," said Nau-Kaou.
"The wind passes over them," replied Ten-teh, binding on his sandals.
"The Girdle," continued the other, thereby indicating the formidable obstacle presented by the tempestuous river, swollen by the mountain snows.
"The fish, moved by no great purpose, swim from bank to bank," again replied Ten-teh. "Tell me rather,
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