After he had beheld Mian's face and understood the circumstances of
his escape and recovery, Ling quickly shook off the evil vapours which
had held him down so long, and presently he was able to walk slowly in
the courtyard and in the shady paths of the wood beyond, leaning upon
Mian for the support he still required.

"Oh, graceful one," he said on such an occasion, when little stood
between him and the full powers which he had known before the battle,
"there is a matter which has been pressing upon this person's mind for
some time past. It is as dark after light to let the thoughts dwell
around it, yet the thing itself must inevitably soon be regarded, for
in this life one's actions are for ever regulated by conditions which
are neither of one's own seeking nor within one's power of
controlling."

At these words all brightness left Mian's manner, for she at once
understood that Ling referred to his departure, of which she herself
had lately come to think with unrestrained agitation.

"Oh, Ling," she exclaimed at length, "most expert of sword-users and
most noble of men, surely never was a maiden more inelegantly placed
than the one who is now by your side. To you she owes her life, yet it
is unseemly for her even to speak of the incident; to you she must
look for protection, yet she cannot ask you to stay by her side. She
is indeed alone. The magician is dead, Ki has fallen, Ling is going,
and Mian is undoubtedly the most unhappy and solitary person between
the Wall and the Nan Hai."

"Beloved Mian," exclaimed Ling, with inspiring vehemence, "and is not