For several days after she had listened to the story of Woo How, Tuen maintained an unwonted gravity, and was so absorbed in her own thoughts that she paid but little attention to anything around her. "The poor child is homesick," Wang muttered, as she watched her, but the girl gave no indication of the cause of her new mood. Perhaps she could not if she had tried. Their progress along the Yang-tse-Kiang was slow, and she had much time for meditation. There was a certain sameness about the scenery, a monotony about the river-life, and she could almost fancy that it was the same people, passing and repassing every day. Sometimes she would hear a boatman singing some familiar air that would carry her back all the many long miles that separated her from that other life, that other Tuen, who was now almost a stranger to her, and she would unconsciously sigh, but she wept no more. The mystic future, heretofore a blank, seemed now full of untold possibilities, and her active mind drew many alluring pictures of what it might be. Unknown to herself, she was merging from a dreaming girl to a clear-headed, determined woman, a woman of a strong personality, whose influence would be felt in the world. After all, it is some mere chance that holds a mirror before us and shows us what we are and what we might be, and to Tuen this vision had come before it was too late. From this time she would press forward with that unfailing courage and persistence whose reward is success. The most diverting sight to her was the fisherman with his cormorants, and these she never tired of watching. With many a hoarse squawk, the well-trained birds would dive for their prey, while their masters shouted cheeringly at them, and happy the bird that came up with a fish in his mouth. He was pulled into the boat, the iron ring that had prevented him from feasting upon his prey was removed from his neck, and a generous handful of bean-curd rewarded his industry. It was amusing to Tuen to see the excited interest these black-winged birds betrayed in their own performance, and with what alacrity they went about their task.

"See, Wang, even a bird can do something!" she cried, one day, as they passed a flock of these unique fishermen.

Before Wang had time to answer, there was a splashing sound near by, and to her horror, Tuen saw the head of a man appear above the water and then disappear. Although many had witnessed the accident, and it was now evident that the man could not swim, no one betrayed any excitement, or made any move toward his rescue. Such is the apathy manifested by these strange people toward the suffering of others—greatly the result of the peculiar laws of the country—that they simply watched, with idle curiosity, for his reappearance, with no thought of offering succor. Tuen was always quick to act, and in this emergency her wits did not desert her. Calling aloud to the sailors: "Cash—many strings of cash—to the one that rescues him," she ran to the side of the vessel.

Seeing that no one moved she cried, angrily:

"What, is the reward not great enough? See this ring," holding up a shining circlet set with an exquisite stone; "this will I give to the one who will save him."

At her words, a lad who had been listening to her with a wondering expression, as if suddenly dazed, sprang quickly overboard and dived for the drowning man. It was so long before he came to the surface that Tuen, to whom every second seemed an hour, began to fear that she had been the cause of a double tragedy, and almost repented of her hasty act. She gave a gasp of relief when he reappeared, holding fast a struggling body, and when they had both been pulled into her boat, she sank down, trembling violently. It turned out that neither was the worse for his plunge beneath the muddy water, and a sun-bath would soon remove all trace of the accident.

When the rescuer stood before her, Tuen said, reprovingly:

"You have done well, but why must you be bought before you would help the drowning man?"

"It is not well to be mixed up in such a case," was his answer. "It might have been said that it was I who killed him, and we who are wise and desire to live long in the land keep our hands off our neighbors."

She uttered an impatient exclamation.

"I do not understand your reasoning."

"Neither do the mandarins," he assured her, "when we are hauled up before them. For that reason they chop off our heads, as that is the easiest way of settling the difficulty. If he had been drowned, there would have been a report that I had been the cause of it, and as he could not have thanked me for my officiousness, and as I could not have proved that he drowned by himself, since I went to help him——" he shrugged his shoulders expressively.

Tuen knit her brows in a puzzled frown, for she knew nothing about the law, but she said, indifferently:

"Well, it does not matter, since the man is still alive. Here is the ring I promised you, and the cash shall be counted out at once. Wang, go with him."

But the boy stood staring at her, as if loath to leave, and such unusual lack of appreciation of cash struck Tuen as marvellous. What a strange creature he was not to be in a hurry for his money! She looked at him attentively, and she saw that he was short and very slender, with a bright, intelligent face, but his water-soaked garments were of the coarse blue cloth worn by the lower class, and his occupation was evidently that of a common sailor. Still looking at him, she said, slowly:

"Take the ring, and perhaps sometime it will serve you well, for none can tell what may be."

The boy bowed gravely, still apparently fascinated by her youth and beauty. Perhaps it was the admiration she read in his face, perhaps but an impulse that caused Tuen to ask abruptly:

"What is your name?"

"Chang-li," he answered, with another bow, for he had evidently become impressed with the superiority of this young girl.

"You may go," she said, with sudden dignity, waving her hand in dismissal. "I will remember it."

The boy turned reluctantly away, and as he did so, he did not place the ring upon his finger, but hid it in his bosom. And when he heard that this lovely creature was the daughter of a Viceroy who went as a present to the Emperor, he wondered at her graciousness, and carefully treasured the ring, although he was offered much money for it, and he was very poor.

And one day, many years after, when a proclamation was issued, commanding one Chang-li, who had been given a ring as a reward for rescuing a drowning man from the river, to come to court and present this ring, he had cause to be glad that he had treasured it.