, like rice, in which
stuck a gay cluster of paper flags; a brown, polished abacus; a mace
carved with a dragon, another carved with a phoenix; a rainbow robe,
gleaming with the plumage of Siamese kingfishers. All these, and more,
he displayed aloft and replaced among the candles.

When his chant ended, a brisk little man in yellow stepped forward into
the lane.

"O Fragrant Ones," he shrilled, "I bring ten thousand recruits, to join
our army and swear brotherhood. Attend, O Master of Incense."

Behind him, a squad of some dozen barefoot wretches, in coolie clothes,
with queues un-plaited, crawled on all fours through the first arch.
They crouched abject, while the tall Master of Incense in the dove-gray
silk sternly examined their sponsor.

In the outer darkness, Heywood craned and listened till neck and
shoulders ached. He could make nothing of the florid verbiage.

With endless ritual, the crawling novices reached the arch of swords.
They knelt, each holding above his head a lighted bundle of
incense-sticks,--red sparks that quivered like angry fireflies. Above
them the tall Master of Incense thundered:--

"O Spirits of the Hills and Brooks, the Land, the swollen seeds of the
ground, and all the Veins of Earth; O Thou, young Bearer of the Axe that
cleared the Hills; O Imperial Heaven, and ye, Five Dragons of the Five
Regions, with all the Holy Influences who pass and instantly re-pass
through unutterable space:--draw near, record our oath, accept the
draught of blood."

He raised at arm's length a heavy baton, which, with a flowing movement,
unrolled to the floor a bright yellow scroll thickly inscribed. From
this he read, slowly, an interminable catalogue of oaths. Heywood could
catch only the scolding sing-song of the responses:--

"If any brother shall break this, let him die beneath ten thousand
knives."

"--Who violates this, shall be hurled down into the great sky."

"--Let thunder from the Five Regions annihilate him."

Silence followed, broken suddenly by the frenzied squawking of a fowl,
as suddenly cut short. Near the chink, Heywood heard a quick struggling
and beating. Next instant he lay flattened against the wall.

The shutter grated open, a flood of light poured out.

Within reach, in that radiance, a pair of sinewy yellow hands gripped
the neck of a white cock. The wretched bird squawked once more, feebly,
flapped its wings, and clawed the air, just as a second pair of arms
reached out