It was a crisp, chill November afternoon, with just a hint of frost in the air that made it bracing. Milky clouds dimmed the intense blue of the heavens, an occasional gust of wind tore off bright-hued leaves from the trees and tossed them gayly about, and already the grass was turning brown. But in the imperial Flower Garden there was as yet no sign of fading flowers or winter bareness, and as the Empress Tuen came out into it, attended by richly apparelled ladies of the court, and followed by slaves and eunuchs, she saw only a scene of beauty. She too was in the autumn of life now. Her eyes no longer sparkled with the fire of youth, her cheeks, once pink as a lotus bloom, were now marked by the cruel furrows of time, and her figure had lost its girlish grace many a year ago, for to-day was her sixtieth birthday. The day was to have been celebrated throughout the Empire with a lavish magnificence that would render it the greatest event in Chinese history for many centuries, for her loyal subjects had planned to render fitting honor to this remarkable woman. The streets for ten miles were to have been covered with rich carpets and decorated with lamps and pictures, and the rarest wares—porcelains, bronzes, jade, and silver—were to have been arranged along this gorgeous avenue. But the inglorious war with Japan had so heavily taxed the people that, at the request of the Empress, these elaborate preparations had been abandoned, though many costly presents had been sent her from every province. Now, weary of gifts and adulation, she wished to be alone, to rest for a time from the affairs of state. With a gesture all the attendants were dismissed, and she sat down in the massive stone chair on the bank of the placid Lake of Dreams. There was no more beautiful spot to be found in all the land than this Flower Garden where the Empress, when she tired of her gilded prison, came for a breath of outer air. It was adorned with graceful pavilions, temples, groves, and lakes, and many Emperors had exhausted the skill and ingenuity of the landscape gardeners of the realm in an endeavor to make this little park enchanting enough to beguile away the tedium of the days of "Heaven's Consort," as the Empress was styled. Flowers of every hue bloomed here; sparkling streams dashed down the sides of artificial mountains and wound like a silver ribbon among the flowers, their waters spanned here and there by quaintly carved marble bridges; the musical splashing of the fountains could be heard through the stillness; half hid away under moss-covered rocks were dark, quiet pools where the lilies loved to bloom; stone grottoes nestled among the trees and overhanging vines, and shrubs cut into likenesses of lions, tigers, giraffes, elephants, and horses, grew beside the walks. In the distance the gilded roof of the Hall of Perfect Peace shone like a beacon, and the sun touched the burnished tower before the Tranquil Palace and transformed it into a pillar of fire, and then fell upon the top of the marble Gate of Extensive Peace, and lo, it seemed made of pearl and ivory. But to-day the Empress paid but slight attention to these glories of the capital, for her mind was filled with painful thoughts. Day by day dire reports came from the scene of war of the havoc wrought among her soldiers, and disgraceful accounts of defeat that made her blood boil. She had prayed unto the gods and offered sacrifices unto them, and for many days she had burned incense on the altar of the God of War, but alas! the gods were deaf, and ruin threatened her kingdom. Her son, the Emperor, was weak and characterless, and for a long time she had been the true head of the vast Empire. In executive ability and knowledge of statecraft foreigners had compared her to Catherine the Great of Russia, for her wisdom and keen insight into governmental affairs had been talked of in every court in Europe. Greater than Emperor and cabinet officers, shrewder than even Li Hung Chang, was this old Empress, who had placed crowns on several brows, and who was the creator of viceroys and state policy. Neither had she forgotten from whence she came, or neglected to reward any who had served her well. In the first hour of her independence and power she caused search to be made for her father and mother, only to learn that they had been long dead, but upon her brother she had heaped the most distinguished honors. Nor had she failed to compensate the Viceroy of Lu Chang for all his kindness to her, and all over the land the story-tellers loved to relate the wonderful history of Tuen, the little slave girl, who was now their beloved Empress.

But now as she sat alone in the garden she was very sorrowful. She had hoped that Li Hung Chang would be able to stir up the patriotism of her subjects and inflame them with martial ardor, but he had been powerless to avert the shame of defeat—defeat at the hands of a little patriotic, plucky nation that she could have put in one of her provinces—a defeat that was the saddest blot on the annals of her people. Oh, it was infamous! She clenched her hands until her many rings cut into the tender flesh, as she inwardly chafed and raged at her own helplessness. Her meditations were at last interrupted by the approach of a eunuch, and she threw back her head and regarded him angrily, impatient that he should have dared to intrude on her solitude. Three times did he humbly bow, then, kneeling before her, knock his head nine times upon the ground before he spoke.

"A gift has arrived for the Empress and awaits her acceptance."

She motioned him haughtily away, but his curiosity was so much excited that he still further dared the royal displeasure.

"It is a very strange thing," he ventured. "Nothing like it has ever been sent before, for it is said to come from the barbarians here who teach the 'Jesus doctrine.'"

"Let it be brought to me here," she said listlessly, although she arched her brows in amazement.

Quickly he went away, and in his stead came the ladies of the court, bearing a teak-wood box. At a sign from the Empress it was opened and disclosed a beautifully wrought silver casket. With her own hand she raised the lid of this casket, wondering what jewel or article of priceless value these strangers had sent her, while the ladies of the court peeped eagerly over her shoulders. But what she saw when the lid fell back was a book, whose covers were of solid silver embossed in bamboo designs, while in one corner in shining letters of gold were the strange words: "Complete New Testament," and in the centre of this remarkable book was a plate of gold upon which was engraved: "Scriptures for the Salvation of the World."

Then she looked again at the casket, and on the lid she read that this book was a present from the Christian women of China, and she marvelled greatly, but she said nothing.

Thus was the Holy Bible placed even on the Dragon's Throne, and then once again the gates of the Forbidden City closed, and all was silence.