I fled from the palace. He has
sent his army here to burn these buildings and to drag me back a
prisoner."

"Then, see what you have brought upon us, miserable girl!" exclaimed the
abbess. "See how you have repaid our kindness! Our buildings will be
burned above our heads! How wretched you have made us! May heaven's
curses rest upon you!"

"No, no!" exclaimed Kwan-yin, springing up, and trying to keep the
abbess from speaking these frightful words. "You have no right to say
that, for I am innocent of evil. But, wait! You shall soon see whose
prayers the gods will answer, yours or mine!" So saying, she pressed her
forehead to the floor, praying the almighty powers to save the convent
and the sisters.

Outside the crackling of the greedy flames could already be heard. The
fire king would soon destroy every building on that hill-top. Mad with
terror, the sisters prepared to leave the compound and give up all their
belongings to the cruel flames and still more cruel soldiers. Kwan-yin
alone remained in the room, praying earnestly for help.

Suddenly a soft breeze sprang up from the neighbouring forest, dark
clouds gathered overhead, and, although it was the dry season a
drenching shower descended on the flames. Within five minutes the fire
was put out and the convent was saved. Just as the shivering nuns were
thanking Kwan-yin for the divine help she had brought them, two soldiers
who had scaled the outer wall of the compound came in and roughly asked
for the princess.

The trembling girl, knowing that these men were obeying her father's
orders, poured out a prayer to the gods, and straightway made herself
known. They dragged her from the presence of the nuns who had just begun
to love her. Thus disgraced before her father's army, she was taken to
the capital.

On the morrow, she was led before the old king. The father gazed sadly
at his daughter, and then the stern look of a judge hardened his face as
he beckoned the guards to bring her forward.

From a neighbouring room came the sounds of sweet music. A feast was
being served there amid great splendour. The loud laughter of the guests
reached the ears of the young girl as she bowed in disgrace before her
father's throne. She knew that this feast had been prepared for her, and
that her father was willing to give her one more chance.

"Girl," said the king, at last regaining his voice, "in leaving the
royal palace on the eve of your wedding day, not only did you i