over her son. When the great princes
sought the capital to render homage to the new emperor, to their
surprise and chagrin they found the unscrupulous dowager empress at the
head of affairs, the sceptre of the realm practically in her hands.

They were to find that this dreadful woman was a dangerous foe to
oppose. Among the potentates was Tao Wang, Prince of Tsi, who, after
doing homage to the young emperor, was invited to feast with him. At
this banquet Liuchi made her appearance, and when the wine was passed
she insisted on being served first. These unpardonable breaches of
etiquette--which they were in the Chinese code of good manners--were
looked upon with astonishment by the visiting prince, who made no effort
to conceal his displeasure on seeing any one attempt to drink before the
emperor.

Liuchi, perceiving that she had made an enemy by her act, at once
resolved to remove him from her path, with the relentless and terrible
decision with which she had disposed of her former rivals. Covertly
dropping the poison, which she seems to have always had ready for use,
into a goblet of wine, she presented it to the prince of Tsi, asking him
to pledge her in a draught. The unsuspicious guest took the goblet from
her hand, without a dream of what the courtesy meant.

Fortunately for him, the emperor, who distrusted his mother too deeply
to leave her unobserved, had seen her secret act and knew too well what
it meant. Snatching the fatal bowl from the prince's hand, he begged
permission to pledge his health in that wine, and, with his eyes fixed
meaningly on his mother's face, lifted it in turn to his royal lips.

The startled woman had viewed the act with wide eyes and trembling
limbs. Seeing her son apparently on the point of drinking, an
involuntary cry of warning burst from her, and, springing hastily to her
feet, she snatched the fatal cup from his hand and dashed it to the
floor. The secret was revealed. The prince of Tsi had been on the very
point of death. With an exclamation of horror, and a keen invective
addressed to the murderess, he rushed from that perilous room, and very
probably was not long in hastening from a city which held so powerful
and unscrupulous a foe.

The Chinese Borgia's next act of violence found a barbarian for its
victim. The Tartar chief Mehe sent an envoy to the capital of China,
with a message which aroused the anger of the empress, who at once
ordered him to be executed, heedless of