if by magic, the massive and inelegant building of Ping Siang's Yamen
was presented before them. As all gazed, astonished, the great door of
the Yamen opened stealthily, and without a moment's pause a lean and
ill-conditioned rat, of unnatural size and rapacity, dashed out and
seized the most select and engaging of the unsuspecting prey in its
hungry jaws. With the expiring cry of the innocent victim the entire
box was immediately, and in the most unexpected manner, involved in a
profound darkness, which cleared away as suddenly and revealed the
forms of the despoiler and the victim lying dead by each other's side.

Tung Fel came forward to receive the well-selected compliments of all
who had witnessed the entertainment.

"It may be objected," he remarked, "that the play is, in a manner of
expressing one's self, incomplete; for it is unrevealed by whose hand
the act of justice was accomplished. Yet in this detail is the
accuracy of the representation justified, for though the time has
come, the hand by which retribution is accorded shall never be
observed."

In such a manner did Tung Fel come to Ching-fow on the seventh day of
the month of Winged Dragons, throwing aside all restraint, and no
longer urging prudence or delay. Of all the throng which stood before
him scarcely one was without a deep offence against Ping Siang, while
those who had not as yet suffered feared what the morrow might
display.

A wandering monk from the Island of Irredeemable Plagues was the first
to step forth in response to Tung Fel's plainly understood suggestion.