The Blue City
that hide under the mountains of China were close at their heels. Hwei-Ti tried to protest but the strength of the aged prophet was phenomenal. By his chaotic manner Hwei-Ti sensed that they were fleeing from some terrible horror. Yet how could horror stalk in the lovely garden of that beautiful girl?
It was sacrilege to credit such a doubt. And if danger existed were they not cowards to flee from it, sacrificing her to an unknown fate?
At last they arrived at the mountain-top from which they had walked off onto the Moon Road. Woo Ling-foh fell panting to the ground. His lean, gaunt face was colorless. He closed his eyes and moaned and moaned. He had used up all his strength in an effort to escape from the Blue City.
Hwei-Ti was amazed. He could not understand Woo Ling-foh's sudden change of front. The Blue City had been exquisitely peaceful and calm, yet it had aroused panic in the mind of the old mystic. He stood gazing off toward the majestic picture of dawn which was unfolding before him. The last star had expired, not a vestige of the Blue City remained. Gone, too, was the Moon Road, like a night fog before the West Wind.
He bent over Woo Ling-foh and touched him upon the shoulder. Hwei-Ti was not in the best of tempers. He resented having been torn away from the magnolia garden against his will, from the presence of that little China girl who was more lovely than any vision which his wildest fancy painted.
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