perish, victim to the superhuman powers, if I have harboured any traitorous thought. Pencil and paper are poor substitutes for what I would say, but I look to see you soon.”
The visitor left with this missive and Kuan Yü went to tell the women. Then he proceeded to the Minister’s palace to say farewell. But Ts‘ao knew what he was coming for and he found at the gate the board intimating that no one could be received. So he had to return. However, he bade his own few soldiers prepare to start at any moment. He also gave orders that everything received from Ts‘ao was to be left in the quarters: nothing was to be taken.
Next day he again proceeded to the palace to say farewell to his patron, but again found the board hanging there to show there was no admission. So it was several times; he could never enter. Then he went to see Chang Liao, but he was indisposed.
“This means he will not let me go,” thought Kuan Yü. “But I am going and I shall hesitate no longer.”
So he wrote this letter:—“As a young man I entered the service of the Imperial Uncle, and pledged myself to share his fortunes. Heaven and Earth witnessed this oath. When I lost the city I made three requests which you granted. Now I hear my brother is with Yüan Shao and I, remembering our pledge, cannot but go to him. Though your bounty is great I forget not the bond of the past, wherefore I write this letter of farewell trusting that when you have read it you will be content for me to postpone to another season the proof of my gratitude.”
He sealed and sent it to the Palace. Then he deposited in the treasury of his dwelling all the gold and silver he had received, suspended his seal of marquis in the reception hall and left, taking his sisters-in-law with him in a carriage. He rode “Red Hare” and carried Black Dragon in his hand. With a small escort of men, those formerly under his command, he left the city by the north gate.
The wardens would have stopped him but he frightened them with a fierce shout. Having got out he told the escort to go in front with the carriage while he would remain behind to guard against pursuit. So they pushed the carriage toward the high road.
In the city Kuan Yü’s letter reached the Minister while he was consulting about what to do. He read it and exclaimed, “So he has left!”
Then the warden of the gate came to report that Kuan Yü had forced his way out, and was gone with a carriage, a horse and a score of guards. Next came the servants from his house to report that he had left, taking nothing of the treasure, nor any one of the waiting maids. Everything was left in the house. Even his seal was there. His only escort were the few men of his original force.
