confusion, many protesting that the day was not a favourable one on
which to fight, others crying that it was their duty to fall back on
Si-chow and protect the women and children. In the midst of this
tumult the Chief of Bowmen returned to Ling, bearing in his hand a
written paper which he regarded in uncontrollable anguish.

"Oh, illustrious Ling," he cried, restraining his grief with
difficulty, and leaning for support upon the shoulders of two bowmen,
"how prosperous indeed are you! What greater misfortune can engulf a
person who is both an ambitious soldier and an affectionate son, than
to lose such a chance of glory and promotion as only occurs once
within the lifetime, and an affectionate and venerable father upon the
same day? Behold this mandate to attend, without a moment's delay, at
the funeral obsequies of one whom I left, only last week, in the
fullness of health and power. The occasion being an unsuitable one, I
will not call upon the courteous Ling to join me in sorrow; but his
own devout filial piety is so well known that I can conscientiously
rely upon an application for absence to be only a matter of official
ceremony."

"The application will certainly be regarded as merely official
ceremony," replied Ling, without resorting to any delicate pretence of
meaning, "and the refined scruples of the person who is addressing me
will be fully met by the official date of his venerated father's death
being fixed for a more convenient season. In the meantime, the
unobtrusive Chief of Bowmen may take the opportunity of requesting
that the family tomb be kept unsealed until he is heard from again."

Ling turned away, as he finished this remark, with a dignified feeling
of not inelegant resentment. In this way he chanced to observe a large