All things, even a journey from Lu Chang to Peking, must end some day, and Tuen's heart was leaping wildly, when after the long, tedious months upon the water she at last found herself seated in a sedan, entering the great outer wall of the capital city. Mechanically she kept repeating Szu's parting words: "A wise man adapts himself to circumstances as water shapes itself to the vessel that contains it," but she merely did this because she must do something to keep her courage up, and not because she found any wisdom or any consolation in the proverb.

As in all places in China she saw a multitude of people about her, through which the chair bearers made their way with loud cries of Lai! Lai! (Clear the way! Clear the way!) Now they met some high mandarin, surrounded by numerous attendants, who looked haughtily out from his sedan window at the mass of humanity about him, and next would come a bride in her gilded chair, hung with garlands of flowers, while behind her followed relations, attendants and servants bearing the wedding gifts, and beating loud tom-toms, and above the sound of kettle-drum and fire-crackers resounded the wild wailing of the bride who went to the husband she had never seen. Elaborately carved portals, on whose top the dragon writhed in many a curve, spanned the wide streets; stores filled with tempting wares opened before the passers-by, their tall signs gay with bright-colored letters and hung with fluttering flags; and quaint little houses, painted in blue and green and gold, almost toppled over each other in the struggle for space. The streets were the home of a mighty throng. The Mohammedan, conspicuous in his red cap, touched elbows with the strongly marked Hebrew; the money-seller, with his long string of cash, weighed cautiously the coins brought him to change; the barber deftly shaved the head of his customer who was perched on a three-legged stool, in constant danger of being jostled by a hurried pedestrian; the cook took the long pole from his shoulders, and unloading the utensils from his movable kitchen, prepared food to tempt the lookers-on; the cobbler squatted by the wayside mending shoes; fortune-tellers waited for the curious; the dentist, with his necklace of shining teeth as proof of skill and customers, importuned the sufferers; the travelling blacksmith, with his implements beside him, solicited trade; jugglers performed various feats in return for the coins thrown them and delighted an ever-changing audience; and book-sellers, tinkers, druggists, musicians, razor-grinders, and pedlers of every description, cried out their wares as they went on their endless peregrinations. Wheel-barrows filled with vegetables and dromedaries bearing coal from Tartary were followed by a funeral procession, the mourners, arrayed in pure white, walking behind the gayly painted casket; and so the great population, shouting, laughing, gesticulating, surged and swelled, and the round of life was ever the same.

Tuen was very glad when she had made her way through all this din and tumult and come to the second wall, the wall of the imperial city, where the yellow-tiled roofs shone like gold in the sunshine. In the distance could be seen King Shan, the Artificial Mountain, its five summits topped with beautiful pavilions. Trees of every kind clustered at its base, while through the foliage, now rich in autumn colors, glistened the water of a silvery lake, and the gleaming roof of the Temple of Great Happiness. Tuen had only a confused idea of this beautiful panorama, for now they had reached the third wall which encircles the Prohibited City—the home of the Son of Heaven. She had often heard how all within this closely guarded enclosure was gold and silver, so brilliant and so gorgeous that it dazzled the beholder, and her little bias eyes were open very wide behind the curtains of her sedan as she peeped cautiously out. The guards in the tower above the Meridian Gate hastened to open it on her approach, for her sedan was hung with yellow, the imperial color. She was borne over pleasant streams, spanned with bridges of sculptured marble, through courts where fountains played and flowers bloomed, and through splendid gilded corridors. Gate after gate of elaborately carved marble opened as if by magic at her approach and then quickly closed again, for she who enters here goes out no more. The magnificent Gate of Extensive Peace shut with a loud clang behind her, but she heard it not, for now she was being carried through beautiful walks with stately bronze figures on either side, past temples and pavilions and palaces, even past that most sacred and superb of all the buildings, the Tranquil Palace, with its tower of burnished copper adorned with images that seemed made of gold. Tuen had never pictured anything so lovely, so enchanting. The Viceroy's yÂmen dwindled into insignificance before all this grandeur, and she felt like a veritable beggar maid brought to a king. And just as she was beginning to think that it must all be some enchanted dream from which she would soon awake, the chair-bearers stopped in front of the Palace of Earth's Repose, which is the royal harem, and the last gate closed between her and all the world.

News travels very slowly through all the many gates that guard the Emperor from his subjects, and what goes on in the Forbidden City is a secret to the rest of the Empire. But sometimes, even from that jealously watched home of royalty, rumors creep abroad, and are whispered from mouth to mouth, for gossip will not be quiet, even though you cut out its tongue. Someway it became noised abroad after a while that Tuen, the maiden from Lu Chang, was the favorite wife of the Emperor, and second only to the Empress herself. Then nothing more was known until it was announced that the Empress was dead, and after a while through the many gates crept the news that Tuen had become the royal consort.

Again there was silence, then at last the Emperor was gathered to his fathers, and Tuen, the little slave girl, during the infancy of her son, became Empress of all China, and ruler over one third of the population of the world. Thus does Fate shift the figures in the game of life.