he hand moved nearer and nearer Mr. Kit-ze's breast; a moment more and it had buried itself in the folds of his robe. Even as Helen continued to gaze like one transfixed, ere yet she had the power to recover herself, a face appeared above the hand. But it was not the face she had expected to see—that of Mr. Choi-So. Instead, the moonlight showed her clearly the repulsive countenance of the old mutang.

There are moments when sudden excitement leads us into a line of action our cooler moments would by no means approve, when quick emotions bring impulses that are followed without a pause for reasoning. Such a time had now come to Helen. Mr. Kit-ze was being robbed. She could see that plainly. The thief was the old mutang, and the object of her theft, it almost instantly flashed into Helen's mind, was the red miriok. In truth, even as the intuition came to her, she saw the hideous little image in the woman's hand.

All Helen's energies were now bent toward a frustration of the old woman's design of carrying away the miriok. She, Helen, must recover it ere the mutang got off with it. For if the miriok disappeared, how could she ever carry out her good intentions for either Mr. Kit-ze or Choi-So? All would be frustrated. For would not Mr. Kit-ze be violently angry? and would he not at once charge the theft to Choi-So? And what might not happen? As to poor Choi-So, he would surely grow demented when he found that the image had gone beyond his reach—oh, she felt that he would!

In her sudden excitement, Helen never stopped for reasoning. Hence it did not occur to her that her testimony would exonerate Choi-So with Mr. Kit-ze, nor that, so far as the part relating to Choi-So was concerned the old mutang might be located and the stolen image recovered.

All that Helen then thought of was the recovery of the miriok. She must get it and at once. Even now the woman was slipping away with it. If she waited to arouse the others the old woman would be gone, for at the first sounds of alarm, she would speed away like a hunted animal up the bank. Helen knew the magic influence of money, especially of shining yen. Had not the old woman shown her greed for them during the afternoon? If the miriok could be recovered, it would surely be through the agency of the yen.

Both girls had lain down in the loose wrappers they wore for comfort during a part of the day. In the pocket of hers Helen had her purse. Besides a few smaller silver pieces there were in it three yen.

She leaned quickly over Dorothy; she placed her arm under her neck and gently shook her, all the while whispering: "Get up quickly, dear, and come with me. Don't speak out, don't question; only come and be quick! quick!"

Fortunately, Dorothy was not hard to arouse when once she had been touched. Like some even heavy sleepers whom a vigorous call cannot awaken, the touch was like magic. In a second or so she was fully awake, and gazing at Helen in deep wonder but alert.

"It is the red miriok!" said Helen to Dorothy again in a whisper. "The old mutang has come and stolen it from Mr. Kit-ze. He does not know it, and there is no time to arouse him and the others. We must recover it. If we are quick we can overtake her before she gets away. Then this will accomplish the rest," she added, confidently holding up the purse.

The mutang had now sprung down from the side of the sampan into which she had crept, and was moving rapidly up the slight incline when Helen and Dorothy in turn reached the bank. She saw them almost instantly and, with a muffled cry, very much like the growl of an animal, increased her speed.

"Stop!" said Helen in low tones, and as persuasively as she could. "Stop! We only want to talk to you. We mean no harm."

But the old woman either did not understand them or she would not stop. It was evidently the latter, for as much as she could, she quickened her pace. But swift as she was, Helen and Dorothy were even swifter. They were only a pace or two behind her as the top of the bank was reached.

It was not far from daylight. The signs of the approaching dawn had already begun to appear along the eastern sky. At the brow of the bluff and stretching away from the temple, was the village of rude mud huts, with now and then a more pretentious one showing in their midst. There was one principal street which ran along between the rows of huts. The mutang made for this with Helen and Dorothy close behind her.

"Stop!" entreated Helen again, and louder than before. "Oh, do stop! We mean no harm. We only want to talk to you." But the more earnestly she entreated, the more determined the old woman seemed to be to resist her, to escape from her.

Helen had now drawn near enough to lay hold of the old woman's clothing, but her grasp was violently shaken off, as the mutang sprang away again with renewed energy.

The two girls, intensely excited, stuck to the chase. All their thoughts were concentrated upon it; their one desire to overtake the old woman and to induce her, by offering yen in exchange, to return the miriok. Absorbed in these thoughts, this desire, they lost sight of all else, especially of how every moment that they were getting nearer and nearer to the woman they were going farther and farther away from the sampan.

"Oh," said Helen breathlessly, "we must overtake her! We must get her to give us the miriok. We can't let her escape with it in this manner, for what then could we do about poor Choi-So and Mr. Kit-ze?"

"Yes," replied Dorothy, "we must get it back. I am like you, Helen, I can't bear to see the old woman get off with it. Oh, every time I think of that poor man Choi-So and his melancholy, pleading eyes, I feel that we must keep on, that we must overtake her and secure the image by some means!"

"Why," said Helen suddenly, "I have forgotten to tell her about the yen I have for her." Then she began to call, holding up her purse: "See! I have yen for you. Stop and let me tell you about it."

At last she had used the magic words. At sound of them, twice repeated, the mutang slackened her pace. Then she turned her head. Encouraged by these signs, Helen renewed her efforts.

They were now some distance into the village, and a half-mile or more from the sampan. The red glow of the coming morning had fully dyed the east. Already there were signs of stirring life in the huts about them. Then too, the noise of running feet and of Helen's loudly spoken words had attracted attention. One by one forms began to appear on the street. Soon there was quite a group in the neighborhood of the pursued and pursuers. By the time Helen had succeeded in gaining the old mutang's interest, there were many curious spectators surrounding them.

"What is all this commotion about?" asked one man as he approached. Then as he noted the mutang he stopped respectfully. The old woman had now paused in her running, and had turned toward Helen. "What were the words? Say them again."

Helen repeated them.

"Why are you running after me in this way? Why do you offer me yen?" she now asked angrily.

Helen told her as simply and as plainly as she could.

At this the old woman's eyes blazed more than ever. But she seemed to take a second thought, and asked cautiously, "How many yen?"

"Two," replied Helen, closely watching her face.

The old woman shook her head vigorously, then began to stamp. "Too little! too little!" she said. "Your head is under your arm to think I'd be such an idiot!"

Then she set off again.

"Three!" called Helen desperately, for she knew this was the limit of her resources so far as yen were concerned.

"No! no!" shouted the old woman. "Too little! too little! Five or none."

As the last sentence was uttered, she turned to see its effect on Helen, but as there was not the response she expected, she renewed her efforts to get beyond their reach.

"Oh, if I only had my purse too!" said Dorothy. "But I gave it to my brother yesterday just before we left Mr. Ko's."

In her despair Helen called after the old woman again and again to stop, to turn back with them to the sampan, promising her the yen she desired if only she would do so, and further assuring her that no harm should come to her, for Helen knew Mallard would gladly supply the amount of yen she lacked. She would tell him about the miriok. She had been intending to do it the first favorable opportunity.

There was now quite a hubbub in the street, for in addition to Helen's calls and Dorothy's added entreaties, there were the shrill cries of defiance of the old mutang herself. People had come running from all directions, and their loudly voiced questions and exclamations added to the noise. Among others there came five runners, the court officers of a near-by yangban (gentleman), who was serving as magistrate.

When they saw the two girls they began to cry out something against the hated foreigners, and three of them at once took Helen and Dorothy into custody, while the other two hastened away to capture the mutang. They were too hardened to mind the old sorceress and her wiles. Moreover, the court was no respecter of persons.

Helen and Dorothy were now much frightened and, for the first time, began to realize what they had done in setting off on this mad chase after the old mutang.

Helen was the first to recover herself. "I guess," she said, "it won't be so dreadful. They won't dare hurt us. And soon our dear ones in the sampan will come to the rescue, for surely we can get them word. Anyhow, it won't be long ere they miss us, and they'll search the town over till they find us."

A young man, whom Helen declared looked more honest than any of the others, was soon engaged, in consideration of the offer of two of Helen's smaller silver pieces, to carry the news of their predicament to the sampan. But alas for Helen's confidence! After securing the silver he had taken only about a dozen steps toward the river when, overcome by curiosity to see the thing out, he turned back.

The mutang had now been captured, but not until she had made such vigorous resistance that not only the clothing of the runners had been torn, but their faces also scratched.

In close company with the old mutang, and with the runners encircling them so that there could be no chance of escape, and a leering, hooting mob following them, the two girls were conducted along the street to the house of the yangban.

"Oh, Dorothy," said Helen, "this is dreadful!" and, in her pain and mortification, she sought to conceal as much of her face as she could with her hands.

"Yes," said Dorothy, on the verge of tears. "Oh, Helen, it would have been better, many times, to have let the miriok go."

"No," said Helen, "no!"

It was now sunrise, but far too early for the magistrate. They were informed that they must wait an hour or more.

Dorothy and Helen were finally permitted to enter the women's apartments. They afterward learned that it was through the overwhelming curiosity of the yangban's chief wife. At the entrance they were laid hold of by the serving-women and fairly dragged into the apartment. There they had a trying experience which lasted nearly an hour. To them it seemed five times that length. Their clothing, their faces, and their hair in turn were inspected, and by each wife. They were bidden to take off their shoes, their wrappers, and other wearing apparel, and each wife in turn must try on each article. But the bulk of the curiosity was directed toward Helen's hair. It seemed that the women would never tire of handling it. They even wanted to cut it off, and but for Helen's heroic efforts, aided by Dorothy's quick ingenuity, would have succeeded.

At length they were summoned before the yangban, the wives, unable to restrain their curiosity, following them to the room, where they sat behind a screen.

The yangban, who was quite a young man, was lounging on his platform and smoking an immense cigar. He was dressed in a pea-green silk robe confined by a red girdle, and on each hand was a very showy paste-diamond ring.

He had ordered the outer door to be thrown open, and had allowed as many of the curious crowd to enter as could be accommodated within a certain space. Near him stood his interpreter, for he had early been informed that two of the accused were foreigners. After smoking awhile in silence, he commanded the offenders to be brought before him for the usual form of questions. He began with Helen. As she stepped a little apart from the others, and nearer to the magistrate, in her earnestness to tell him her story, she happened to raise her eyes for a moment and let them rest upon the crowd gathered at her left. As she did so a little muffled cry escaped her. There, standing almost in the front line, and with his dark eyes fixed mournfully upon her, was Choi-So. How had he come there? Afterward she learned that he had not been far away from the sampan, and, sleeping very lightly because of the thoughts that disturbed him, had been attracted by the sound of running feet and by Helen's calls to the old woman. He had overtaken them just as they had been arrested and started to the yangban's. He had heard Helen try to tell one of the runners the cause of the trouble. He had gleaned just enough to set him on fire with interest and excitement. For an instant Choi-So's presence at the magistrate's court so disconcerted Helen that she could not remember the words she had been on the point of uttering. But soon more confidence returned, and she began bravely to tell her story.

The magistrate listened patiently, but he was evidently full of curiosity and deeply excited over the appearance of the two young girls. Though he had seen the white foreigners on the streets of Seoul, yet he had never before been brought in such contact with them. The fearless, earnest manner of both girls impressed him and had much to do with his decision.

The mutang should return the image, he declared. He had not asked to see it yet, and so was in no wise impressed by it. Helen and Dorothy had proved to be of such tremendous interest that all minor objects had been for the time obscured.

Yes, the mutang should return the image, and the yen that Helen had offered should go to himself.

This decision was barely rendered when there came a communication from his chief wife. He appeared to frown over it for a few moments, all the while smoking hard. Then he further announced, and in the most laconic manner, that Helen was to sacrifice her hair ere receiving the image.

A cry of dismay escaped Helen, while Dorothy, hot with indignation, began to pour out her protests, first to the magistrate, then to Helen.

"It can't be done! You can't think of such a thing! Don't! Don't!"

"Oh, yes," said Helen, who had now grown strangely quiet and calm. "It isn't such a dreadful sacrifice, dear. There are many far worse. I can endure it. My hair will grow out again. Oh, surely it is worth this when we remember what it means to get back the miriok!"

All the while she was speaking, though she was looking at Dorothy, yet Helen saw those mournful eyes that she knew were fixed upon her from the other side of the room.

"Take the scissors, Dorothy," she entreated. "I had forgotten until now that I had my folding ones here in the little case in my pocket. Oh, it will be so much better for you to do it, dear, for I couldn't bear any of those rude hands to touch me."

Dorothy took the scissors, but still making vigorous protest.

"Do, Dorothy, do, my dear," pleaded Helen.

With trembling hand Dorothy grasped the rich, shining braid. The scissors were raised; but ere the two gleaming blades could close on the glossy strand, a voice cried out authoritatively:

"Stop! Stop!"

Helen and Dorothy raised their eyes simultaneously. It was Mr. Kit-ze. He had pressed to the extreme limit of the line of spectators, and with his hat gone, his clothing in wild disorder, his eyes gleaming like two globes of fire, was gesticulating frantically to the magistrate.