The soft, regular life into which he had fallen soon affected the boy queerly: he chafed and became openly moody. His simple duties were so easily performed that he had endless time hanging on his hands. Although he belonged to a race with a genius for passivity, this quality covers certain explosive tendencies which require a regular outlet.

In Wang the Ninth was to be found a compendium of all the virtues and vices of an ancient system. Quick, impetuous, warm-hearted and highly intuitive, there was mixed with these things a certain laziness and indifference to everything save appearance and settled customs. Absolutely honest wherever a definite trust was given him, the boy nevertheless hugely enjoyed all kinds of illicit things. It was the fact that he could not indulge his passion for such enterprises that discontented him: here everything was well-ordered and regular—a sleek existence in all truth.

"Ours is a good master," said the stable-hands gratefully on many occasions. "A man could live here a hundred years and never fear for his employment." To which Wang the Ninth would only give a qualified approval.

One day, when he was wandering in the compound, he discovered the existence of a little door artfully masked behind a tree. It was in strict consonance with his principles that he should keep quiet about the matter, particularly as he had been told that he would be whipped if he went where he had no business to be. He pondered over the matter unendingly for lack of anything else to do, and at last the little door aroused in him a veritable passion of curiosity which became an obsession. Sometimes, when he was exercising the ponies by leading them endlessly round the circular cinder-walk, he would stop short and lose himself in speculations until he was aroused by the animals sniffing at his head. Once he was so deep in thought that the head-groom asked him what he was mooning over.

"I am thinking of family-affairs," he replied abruptly, which was equivalent to saying that the matter was beyond public discussion, since no one outside the immediate family circle is qualified to discuss them.

After that he would sing to himself ever so softly as he walked the ponies slowly round the exercising-ground, so that no man might know what was in his mind. But when he was released from his duties, and dusk had fallen, he would scarcely ever fail to saunter round the straggling compound and at last work his way to the little door. Then, after a look to see that he was not observed, quick as lightning he would dart in and test it to see if through carelessness it had been left unlocked. Many times he did the same thing, and as many times was he disappointed. He began to believe that the masked entrance had no significance at all and had come down from days when the property belonged to some one else.

At last, however, he had the inspiration to use the native plan of putting dust in the keyhole to see if the key were used; the very next evening when he came back his quick eyes saw that a key had actually been thrust in and the dust nearly all knocked out. There was a clear mark which was easily recognizable. Three times he tried the experiment, and three times it produced the same result. He was embittered with the knowledge that the door was regularly used but how or why he failed to discover.

One evening he put his arms round the tree which masked the door, kicked off his shoes, and with his amazing climbing-powers, swarmed up as easily and as rapidly as if it had been a ladder. At last he was able to look over the high white wall.

He was rather disappointed.

On the other side there was a neat little courtyard, which was flanked on three sides—north, east, and west—by little buildings, full of latticed windows. In one corner of the court was stretched a clothesline with women's clothes hanging on it. Asleep on the stone-flags was a small dog with a fine coat.

He was so intent drinking in this scene that an exclamation immediately below him nearly made him loosen his grip and fall. With his mouth wide open and his face very red he glanced down. It was a girl.

She made a step or two as if she were going to call some one. But almost at once she changed her mind and exclaimed irately:

"What are you doing up there, ill-educated boy?"

At that he was covered with confusion: the power of speech almost left him. He said lamely enough:

"There was a little bird on this tree hopping about in the branches. I had observed it two or three times before and tonight I determined to catch it, hoping that it was too young to fly and had fallen from the nest above. It was not an easy matter."

He pointed with a hand upwards to a nest; then he let go both hands from the tree, holding on with his knees in a spirit of bravado.

"A small bird!" echoed the girl. "Where is it—show it to me. I walk here every day and never have I observed it."

"Fei-la—it has flown," he answered abruptly. "My supposition was incorrect. Evidently it was sufficiently grown to fly. It is very difficult to judge birds at this season."

"Up there was it that you saw it?" queried the girl again with persistence because she was a woman.

"Yes, in the tree," answered Wang the Ninth rather rudely. Then something prompted him to laugh suddenly in his spontaneous way.

"What I have just told you is not true, at least not entirely," he remarked, picking at the bark with his fingers. "Evidently there are birds in all trees where there are nests—but I myself came to look over the wall."

Below an exclamation.

"To look over the wall! That is not a good business. You will surely be beaten if you are caught. This indeed is an impudent boy. But why did you wish to look over?"

"Because for many days I had observed the small door and was unable to understand why it was locked."

Again the girl gave an exclamation.

"Certainly will you be beaten if you are caught. Go quickly. My grandfather is the steward—has no one told you? But what do you do in the house?"

"I am in the stables."

"Now I know. You are the one they call the little wine-smuggler. Certainly you climb well enough for that. But if you practise this sort of thing you will inevitably suffer."

At that the boy said rather glumly in a sort of monologue: "They attach that name to me for motives of jealousy because they fear that the master may unduly favour me. In any case I only smuggled for a month or so. There was nothing particular in what I did. I have never defrauded others. From the stables there is a constant removal of grain: all share in this dishonesty, and yet they do not hesitate to make unjust remarks about myself."

He was distinctly angry. Something in him rebelled at the fact that a stranger and a woman should know him by a nasty nickname. He felt humiliated. And inclination came over him to slide down the tree without another word. But just then the girl asked:

"Will you risk climbing up again?"

He shook his head.

"It seems a stupid business. I hear nothing good about myself when I do. And there is always the danger of punishment."

Then there was silence. Above the blue-black sky had lost its last hint of orange and yellow. Night was fast coming on in this land of no twilight. Within a few minutes it would be pitch-dark.

"The other side is less dangerous," said the girl, suddenly pointing to the north. "You can reach it by going round the outhouse where the plants are kept."

He looked at her in amazement, not understanding why such a remark had been made. Then, after a long pause, he began to slide down ever so slowly, stopping every few inches as if he did not know what to do.

"Well, perhaps I shall try it—who knows. In a day or two, but not at once as I must study the ground."

With this odd good-bye he slid very rapidly out of sight, and landed on the ground with a clean jump.

In less than two minutes he had loafed back into his quarters looking slily round to see whether his absence had been observed.