"That is a great secret, but as I am in honour bound to tell you, here
goes. My mistress has just obtained in some manner or other, a fairy's
charm----"

"She stole it from our place," hissed the cat, "I will claw her eyes out
if I get the chance. Why, we've been fairly starving for want of that
beetle. She stole it from us just after she had been an invited guest!
What do you think of that for honour, Sir Rat? Were your mistress's
ancestors followers of the sage?"

"Oh, oh, oh! Why, that explains everything!" wailed the rat. "I have
often wondered how they got the golden beetle, and yet of course I dared
not ask any questions."

"No, certainly not! But hark you, friend rat--you get that golden
trinket back for me, and I will set you free at once of all obligations.
Do you know where she hides it?"

"Yes, in a crevice where the wall is broken. I will bring it to you in
a jiffy, but how shall we exist when our charm is gone? There will be
a season of scanty food, I fear; beggars' fare for all of us."

"Live on the memory of your good deed," purred the cat. "It is splendid,
you know, to be an honest beggar. Now scoot! I trust you completely,
since your people lived in the home of Confucius. I will wait here for
your return. Ah!" laughed Whitehead to herself, "luck seems to be coming
our way again!"

Five minutes later the rat appeared, bearing the trinket in its mouth.