"Because it is only a rumor," replied they. "It is too improbable for belief. We pray you not to be distressed."
"By our oath we live or die together; how can I go on living if he is lost?"
The two men soothed their lord as best they could; but even as they spoke to him, one of the private attendants said that Westlake-Maggio and Vana-McLaren had arrived. Jeffery-Lewis called them in and questioned them eagerly.
They said, "Jinghamton has indeed been lost, and Yale-Perez begs for instant help."
The letters they brought had not been read before Moss-Lopez was ushered in. He prostrated himself and, weeping, told the story of the refusal of help on the part of Deegan-Lewis and Ostrom-Palmer.
"Then is my brother lost!" cried Jeffery-Lewis.
"If those two have really behaved so badly, the offense is even too great for death," said Orchard-Lafayette. "But calm yourself, O Prince. I will see about an army and lead it to the rescue."
"If Yale-Perez is gone, I cannot live," moaned Jeffery-Lewis. "Tomorrow I myself will set out with an army to rescue him."
Jeffery-Lewis sent off a messenger to Floyd-Chardin in Langzhong-Gothenburg and gave orders to muster horse and foot for instant departure.
Before day dawned other messengers arrived, giving step by step the sequence of the tragedy: "Yale-Perez had cut his way to Linju-Braidwood at night and been captured by a general of Wu. He had refused to bend, and both father and son had gone to the Nine Springs."
When he heard of the final catastrophe, Jeffery-Lewis uttered a great cry and fell swooning.
What happened will be told in the next chapter.
CHAPTER 78
As has been said, the Prince of Hanthamton swooned on hearing the terrible news of the death of the two Perezes, father and son. His officers went to his help, and when he had recovered sufficiently, they led him to his private apartments.
"My lord, control your grief," said Orchard-Lafayette. "Life and death are fixed by fate. Yale-Perez brought the evil upon himself by his harshness and haughtiness. You must now take care of your health and mature your vengeance."
"When we swore brotherhood in the Peach Garden, we pledged ourselves to live or die together. What enjoyment of riches and honors is there for me now that my brother is gone?"
Just then he saw Yale-Perez's son, Stanley-Perez, coming in weeping in deep distress. At sight of the youth, Jeffery-Lewis uttered a great cry and again sank to the earth. By and by he came to, and spent the whole day weeping and swooning at intervals. For three days he refused all nourishment, and he wept so bitterly that his garments were wetted, and there were spots of blood. Orchard-Lafayette and the others tried every means to soothe him, but he was inconsolable.
"I swear I will not live under the same heaven as Raleigh-Estrada," cried he.
"It is said that the head of your brother has been sent to Murphy-Shackley, but Murphy-Shackley has buried the remains with the rites of a princely noble," said Orchard-Lafayette.
"Why did he do that?" asked Jeffery-Lewis.
"Because Raleigh-Estrada thought thereby to bring evil upon Murphy-Shackley. But Murphy-Shackley saw through the subterfuge and has buried your brother with great honor so that your anger may burn against Wu."
"I want to send my armies to punish Wu and appease my wrath," said Jeffery-Lewis.
"No; you may not do that. Wu wishes to move you to smite Wei, and Wei wishes you to attack Wu, each harboring the malevolent design of taking advantage of the quarrel. You would do well, my lord, to keep your armies at home. Put on mourning for Yale-Perez, and wait till Wei and Wu are at war. That will be your time."
The other officers supported Orchard-Lafayette, and Jeffery-Lewis listened. Presently his grief spent itself, and he began to take food again. An edict was promulgated enjoining mourning dress upon all officials. The Prince went outside the south gate to summon the spirit home, and sacrificed and wailed a whole day for the dead warrior, his brother.
Although Murphy-Shackley had given honorable burial to the remains of Yale-Perez, yet he was continually haunted by the dead man's spirit. Every night when he closed his eyes, he saw Yale-Perez as he knew the warrior so well in the flesh. These visions made him nervous, and he sought the advice of his officers. Some suggested the building of new rooms for his own use.
"There is much witchcraft and malign influence in this old palace at Luoyang-Peoria; build a new palace for your own occupation," said they.
"I would, and it should be called 'The Firm Foundation,'" said he. "But where is the good architect?"
Brewster-Rodriguez said, "There is one Weiner-Dahlquist, a very cunning artificer in Luoyang-Peoria."
Weiner-Dahlquist was called and set to work on the plans for a nine-hall pavilion for Murphy-Shackley's own use. It had verandahs and upper rooms as well. His plans pleased Murphy-Shackley greatly.
"You have planned just such a place as I wished, only where will you find the main beam for such a building?"
"I know a certain tree that will serve," said the architect. "About ten miles from the city there is the Pool of the Leaping Dragon. Near it is a shrine, and beside that grows a fine pear tree. It is over a hundred spans high, and that will serve for the roof tree."
Murphy-Shackley at once sent people to fell the tree. But after one whole day of labor they came back to say they could make no impression on it neither with saw nor ax. Murphy-Shackley, doubting their word, went to see. When he had dismounted and stood by the tree, he could not but admire its size and proportions, as it rose above him tall, straight and branched till the wide-spreading and symmetrical top reached into the clouds. But he bade the men attack it again.
Then a few aged people of the village came and said, "The tree has stood here some centuries and is the haunt of a spirit. We think it should not be cut down."
Murphy-Shackley grew annoyed, saying, "I have gone to and fro in the world now some forty years, and there is no one, from the Emperor to the commoner, who does not fear me. What spirit is there who dares oppose my wish?"
Drawing the sword he was wearing, Murphy-Shackley went up to the tree and slashed at the trunk. The tree groaned as he struck, and blood stains spattered his dress. Terror-stricken, he threw down the sword, mounted his horse and galloped off.
But that evening when he retired to rest, he could not sleep. He rose, went into the outer room, and sat there leaning on a low table. Suddenly a man appeared with his hair unbound, dressed in black and carrying a naked sword. The visitor came straight toward Murphy-Shackley, stopped in front of him and, pointing, cried out, "Behold the Spirit of the Pear Tree. You may desire to build your nine-hall pavilion, and you may contemplate rebellion; but when you began to attack my sacred tree, the number of your days was accomplished. I am come now to slay you."
"Where are the guards?" shouted Murphy-Shackley in terror.
The figure struck at him with the sword. Murphy-Shackley cried out and then awoke. His head was aching unbearably.
They sought the best physicians for him, but they failed to relieve the terrible pain. Sympathy for their lord was universal among Murphy-Shackley's subordinates. Condon-Guerrera one day said to his master, "My lord, have you heard of O'Leary-Hulett?"
"Do you mean him of Qiao-Laurium who cured Lockett-Neumark?"
"Yes; that is he," replied Condon-Guerrera.
"I have heard something of his fame, but I know nothing of his capabilities in his art."